Feed Me a Box of Words
by Of Wolves And Dogs
Summary: Nero liked the idea of playing hero and saving Dante’s ass, but when did playing ‘hero’ suddenly mean asking help from a monstrous secret Dante has been hiding from Nero? All things come with a price and Nero has a bad feeling that Vergil is going to...
1. peace in our time

**Summary: **// Post DMC 4 // _With the downfall of Sanctus, Nero thought for sure that matters have finally calmed down. Yet instead it has only been beginning to boil. Learning his Devil Bringer can move through Death itself, when he turns for more answers Dante is gone. It seems the tables have turned: Dante now in trouble and Nero having to go out and rescue him. Problem is…to rescue Dante, he'll need the aid from the unlikeliest of beings – or should he say half-devils. But if there is one thing Nero has learned as a child, is to never trust demons and devils fully. And from the looks of it…his new companion is far from being trustworthy._

**feed me a box of words  
chapter one :** peace in our time  
**written by: **of wolves and dogs

**"**_We are the sons and daughters of a revolution**,**  
Revolutionaries walking us out of opression and into a  
No**-**low promise land__**.  
**And this is leaves us with a great sense of sadness dwelling inside our soul**. **  
No one can explain where  
It**'**s coming from or where its taking us**.**  
We just know that something is lost**,** but somehow we are lost**,** lost  
And this my friend**,** is the Great Depression_**."  
**  
- Great Depression by Blindside

* * *

The dog had been killed just minutes ago – struck by a passing car – blood staining its sleek coat of gold that spoke of habitual grooming sessions from a tidy owner. It laid in silence, gold fur against onyx tar that made up the road, eyes wide in frozen surprise. The smell of thyme and incense emitted from the dog underneath the stench of blood and marred flesh, however. Already flies were beginning to nitpick at the dead mutt, their tiny appendages digging and searching. Hungry for already decaying meat.

A tall and slender male bent over the dog, muscles apparent despite the lanky frame due to the nearly form-fitting pants that revealed toned thighs and calves. Magnolia-white locks of hair fluttered to life by a passing breeze, the scent the dog emitted only tickling the male's nostrils. It was this scent that pinpointed to him who exactly the owner of this dog was. Giving a soft sigh in disbelief, his right hand reached out and brushed against the dog's forehead. The arm was like no regular human arm. Instead it was a demonically possessed arm that was covered in layers and layers of harden flesh of heavy reds. Yet it could not hide the vibrant sky blue pulse the arm gave, streaking through the forearm and covering the palm. Nero turned his head upward, eyes scanning his surroundings before falling onto the gate that surrounded the recreation center. There scrambling through the gates was a tiny-framed female with chestnut hair adorned in a familiar ponytail.

Shoes were clacking on the pavement as her ponytail swung jauntily left and right. When she focused her eyes and spotted Nero by the dog, a worried cry escaped her, "Lucky!" Nero turned his head back to the dog, lips quirked into a frown. Just as he feared – it was the stray Kyrie found not too long ago. The girl was honestly too giving with her "everyone should be taken with open arms" theory of hers. He supposed that was the reason he absolutely adored her, or was it the fact she was the only one who could meet him squarely in the eye and make him do her bidding? Nero had to hand it to the girl - she had one hell of a hold on him. Eyes closing, his Devil Bringer pulsed in warmth as he pulled at the arm's demonic powers. He could feel forces twist from his fingers and invisibly grope at the dog. Fingers were beginning to freeze, as if an injection of icy particles was slowly running through the fingers in a wild frenzy.

Kyrie, running, saw Nero bend down toward the dog and a sensation of fear rippled through her. Nearly falling on her face, her hand managed to prevent her from hitting the pavement. Pushing herself up, once more scrambling to regain her balance, she soon found Nero trying to restrain the golden retriever that was licking his face with wild vigor. "Goddamit, dog! I get it! I get it! Get off! Get off!" Nero growled back, trying to shove Lucky aside but only earning a tongue grazing his ear.

_Dumb dog._

"Lucky!" Kyrie exclaimed as she fell on her knees, hugging the dog and earning playful licks in the ear. Releasing the dog, she smiled warmly at Nero who gave a lazy grin in response. About to open her mouth to greet Nero, she instead spotted blood on Nero's Devil Bringer. "There isn't anything under the blood… Nero, what were you trying to do – " she began in question before her tone became cross, causing Nero to roll his eyes and compulsively lean forward, lips meeting each other. Silencing her with this chaste kiss, he drew back and slowly got up.

Brushing the dirt off of his knees, Lucky only jumped on him in response, leaving dirty paw prints on his pants. Grumbling dark curses under his breath, he began to brush his pants off once more. "I didn't do anything to your dog, Kyrie… Anyways, aren't you supposed to be giving those old farts foot massages right now?" Nero replied back, sarcasm and scorn burning into his last inquiry. Nero and the elderly could not coexist whatsoever and everyday there seemed to be at least one of them openly bickering with him. 'What a rude boy!' 'Watch your tongue!' 'Take a shower!' 'Say 'thank you'!' 'Watch where you are going!' Every day the same goddamn phrases and Nero has been tempted more than once to just snap their wrinkly little necks off. Weren't old people supposed to be nice!? They were nothing but a bunch of assholes in his opinion! Where the hell did they get so much fucking energy!? _Talk about drinking your prune juice…_Kyrie shot him a suspicious look before letting a smile made of sunshine bloom onto her face. "Alright then…try to stay out of trouble until dinner time where I know I'll be able to keep a close eye on you," she laughed out, her right fingers threading gently into his left hand, body leaning against his. Nero felt a warm shiver run across his spine in bliss, his head instinctually moving forward to capture her lips once more. She moved away from him in time, causing him to give a pout as she walked off with a coy smile on her lips. Dog bounding beside her, Nero gave a ragged sigh as his smile remained etched on his lips.

When she was long gone, he allowed his body to finally succumb to the shivers that came from pulling the dog's spirit back from Death and into Life.

Death and the Demon Realm coexisted in symbiotic harmony – something Nero discovered purely by chance. He thought he had his entire Devil Bringer figured out after the entire Sanctus dilemma. Instead it seemed to change and rearrange itself, never making it able for him to say he knew the back of his own hand. When someone died, their spirit and soul has to pass through the gates of Death to the final Judgment Gate. It was the gate that decided who will go to Hell (The Demon Realm, Underworld – the names are extensive) and what will become a Proud Soul. Nero never understood where Proud Souls came from – he understood they aided him in gaining new abilities, but he never understood their creation and source. Now he did… It was actually Kyrie who found this out for him after he told her that he has walked partially into Death after a slip-up with his Devil Bringer. She found a book that briefly described his findings and then spoke of myths like Charon who would ferry the newly deceased souls. It made sense…but yet was so bizarre. But…if Hell could exist as did demons, along with swords that could rip open gates and Dark Knights like Sparda…then anything was possible. The world seemed to be revealing its inner workings to him.

When Nero told Dante just four months ago, he seemed not at all surprised. He spoke of how the arm is truly a 'useful tool' and that he should make sure to keep a 'close eye on it'. Nero was hoping for a long speech about the reason for this arm and these powers. Dante should be informed of Devil Arms and the entire demonic magic mumbo jumbo, after all. Instead Dante kept it vague, short and to the point. He didn't seem worried, and neither was Nero. But if he was able to pull a dog's spirit and soul back into its body, then what would it take to bring a human to life?

The made him shiver at the thought, not even wanting to think of the price he would have to pay or what would even come from it. Feeling Death's chill was already hard enough on his own spirit and being whenever he entered Death.

* * *

Nero was safely home in Fortuna Island and has remained in his homeland after the 'Birth of a Very Large Statue Fiasco' (as Nero kindly dubbed it as). Dante offered him a job back at Devil May Cry, but he refused the offer. He would love to hunt demons with Dante and Gloria – ah Trish (he still would never get over the whole disguise and name deal) – but his place was here. He had helped rebuilt Fortuna, made sure demons were kept in check, and even helped bring back the armed forces of the Order of the Sword. Now there was no way in hell the Order's ideas were going to be resurrected, but it was nice to know that now capable men were able to protect the people if needed to. The Knights of the Order also calmed the heavy tension that has dug itself deep into Fortuna's citizens. Plus business was doing good once more at Port Caerula, and it was a wonderful sight for sore eyes to see fisherman bringing it their fresh catch as market stands sprung up. Things were turning back to normal – or at least into a state of civility. Yet despite it all…the people respected him, feared him, or downright loathed them. There was never one consistent view on him.

He was still Fortuna's black sheep it seemed… Go figures. What does a guy got to do around here to get a little bit of respect?

Yet he cannot say that he had officially cut his ties with the Demon Hunter, Dante. It was the first of every month would he swing by, the two chatting until night turns into day. Nero had to admit it; he did find Dante's company and visits to be welcoming. As much as the two bickered and shot barely constructed comebacks at one another, Nero found Dante to be that older sibling he always wished for – or a father at best. _I think he's old enough to be my grandpa…_ Nero joked wryly in his head, saving this phrase for later for Dante. But what he honestly wanted to talk about was this whole Hell and Death deal. What did that mean for a Demon Hunter like himself – for he did see himself as an honorary Demon Hunter now – and the whole concept of demons? There were so many unanswered questions, yet whenever Nero seemed to be questioning things or matters, all roads pointed in Dante's direction.

Sparda seemed to always be in the mixture one way or another.

Nero was mulling over this in his head as he cradled his Devil Bringer as if it was wounded or a sleeping child. Snapping out of his thoughts, he turned his head toward the window, eyes staring at the dark sky of night. Dante has yet to arrive and that made him shift uneasily in the armchair in one of Fortuna's libraries. It was the only area where he knew for certain they would not be disturbed late at night. Brows furrowed as he rifled through his memories, trying to make sure that today was the first of November. Yes…today was definitely the first but why was Dante not here yet? Was he running late? Was he not even coming?

_He should have called or sent me a letter – that fucking bastard. I __**would**__ be stood up by him! _

Snarling in disbelief, he sank deeper into the cushion of the armchair, arms crossed firmly across his chest like a bratty child not given his way. Consistency his ass. Staring darkly at the window, willing it to send his glare of loathing, the sound of running footsteps made him snap back into reality. Body sat up, rigid and alert as his fingers moved to the holster on his thigh, fingering the Blue Rose in caution. A panting blur of white came to his sight and he instantly rose up as if in the presence of royalty. "Kyrie?" he asked, his hands reaching out to grab her shoulders, head craning downward to look at her face. "What's wrong?"

"D-D-Demon," she breathed out with a choked sob through intakes of heavy gulps of oxygen. Nero growled and released her shoulders, body storming out of the library. He wasn't given the exact area of the demon's location, but as he pulled the sleeve of his coat further, he allowed his Devil Bringer to search it out. He was aware of Kyrie following after him far behind as he moved out of the building and into the crisp night atmosphere. The Devil Bringer began to pulse as a scream echoed from the east. Legs kicked into a sprint, body leaning forward to gain momentum as his thoughts circulated to what on earth could have gone in. Where the hell were those Knights? Didn't he tell them to be on patrol and always alert? _Lazy assholes...how could they be so stupid and naïve!?_

His Devil Bringer pulsed wildly this time as he neared the recreation center, his heart skyrocketing. How many people resided inside the building? How many have died already while he sat waiting for Dante? Shaking his head, growling as duty harassed him, he kicked the door down when he reached it. The wooden door gave a groan and toppled over as he bounded onward like a dog intent on chasing a cat. Reaching one of the large rooms, he found a group of citizens scurrying past him as he entered the room. Eyes turned to see a darkened shape in the middle of room, cocking its head about in curiosity. It seemed to be carrying something in its hands, something wrapped in some sort of cloth… The demon…no, it looked more like shadow demon… Doppelganger the Deathvoid – Dante once spoke of it briefly long ago – telling how he received its soul. Nero wasn't quite sure if there was only one of this shadow demon, and he highly doubted it now. Shadows were everywhere…especially in death… _Oh! Death!_

His Devil Bringer glowed as if it sensed its intention as his demonic arm flexed before he focused on his arm. The trick was concentration; if he slipped up he could find his soul and spirit being tossed into realms of Death or worst the Underworld itself. Opening his eyes, he found himself in Death. Each passing gate was like rooms you had to enter through staircases hidden deep into the wide-spaced areas. The entire area was painted in hues of gray and black, making it nearly impossible to see what lurked in the shadows of this bare room. It did not matter, for Nero's Devil Bringer was like a light in itself. Moving forward, he stopped when he saw the Doppelganger stare at him with curious eyes of red furnaces. Lips were forever parted into a toothy grin of teeth that should be on sharks.

What worried him was the fact it wasn't attacking him or mocking him. What troubled him was the fact it did not assume his shape – or rather shadow. Instead it stood there, looking more like someone familiar… Then it moved, steps so awkward and laborious as it kept its eyes on him. Nero wasn't sure whether to attack it or just wait around for it to come closer. It seemed to bring him no harm…but as it moved in, he noted a faint red thread leaving from its feet. A thread that probably traveled deeper into the gates of Death and close to the Demon Realm. Someone from the Demon Realm was controlling this Doppelganger.

Feeling a hand touch his shoulder made his senses twitch back to Life and he gingerly pulled away from Death. Back in the room, he found Kyrie by his side, bravely looking onward. "What is it? I've never seen such a demon…did it say anything in Death?" she asked. Nero found that in Death, those too dumb to speak in Life could speak. Scarecrows were actually foulmouthed to the very bone and often spoke in strange languages that he knew for sure were not human whatsoever. Yet this Doppelganger was silent, not even grunting in Death. Eyes watched the Doppelganger slowly roll its left leg forward before the right one followed suit. Nero lightly bit his tongue in thought, trying to figure this whole thing out.

"It did not say a word…and it does not seem to be attacking us as of yet… No one has died – as far as I can see. But someone…a greater demon or devil is controlling it from beyond Death," Nero replied back, chewing his words out with much thought. He was almost half-amused by the fact he was being so calm about this. His anger toward Dante was diminished by this odd occurrence. "I'm going to go back…maybe I can talk to it…" Nero mused after a moment, not at all sure of his words. He was probably going to just kill it in spirit, making sure to permanently make it disappear. Death was like his ace in his sleeve – an instant K.O attack. What would have taken minutes in battle to defeat a greater demon, will take only seconds in Death. Destroy the spirit and soul, and you destroy the entire demon forever. While demons could be sent back to Hell from whence it came, he could toss them back to Hell and bind them to Hell until someone stupidly opens a Hell Gate. It was him making sure that none can arise once more in a different form or just again in general. Yet Death was dangerous in itself…be there for too long and you can find yourself sucked into Death's seducing ways. Old powers resided in Death that had the power to leech your soul. Plus, while he could hurt the souls and spirits of others in Death, so could others in turn. Yet he also noticed that no sword could hurt a spirit in Death. Only his Devil Bringer could kill the demons and dead that lurked about. Yet…as he too made himself vulnerable in Death he also was in Life, for his body would appear as if he was frozen in place – a breathing statue. Senses not aware of what is around him in Life except when someone physically touches him.

In the area once more, he found the Doppelganger still making its way toward him. It was then did Nero notice the wrapped up bundle in its hands. What was that? Inanimate objects in Death were rare… "Kid!" that was Dante's voice and Nero instantly moved forward, hesitant as the Doppelganger spoke with Dante's voice. "Take the damn thing!" it commanded and Nero slowly made its way toward it. The Doppelganger was losing its essence, as if light was being shinned on it, making the shadow erode away before him. Devil Bringer grabbing the bundle in its arm, he watched the red thread snap like glass being shattered as the Doppelganger crumbled into nothing, being pulled into the darkness.

Feeling himself be tugged back to life, his eyes saw the Doppelganger had vanished and in his hands was the bundle. Dante…was using a Doppelganger to speak? A mouthpiece from beyond Life? Into the Demon Realm!? This was serious…and he couldn't help but feel a cruel shiver run down his back and it was not from entering Death. It was instead from the fact that someone like Dante found himself in a hole he could not dig himself out of.

His ears tuned out Kyrie, his eyes on the bundle before him. It was wrapped in velvet as he carefully undid it with shaking hands. There was the hilt of a sword he returned just months ago after claiming he needed no use of it. A dark navy hue encased by snow-white material that was icy to the touch… _Yamato…_ Something was wrong - terribly wrong. Dante trapped? Maybe…dead… Now the inheritance of the Yamato – a sword that can rip holes into different realms?

So much for peace in our time.

* * *

**A/N: **Alright, so I am here to introduce some new things to this story. I like the idea of Death and Demon Realm coexisitng. I mean where the hell DO Proud Souls come from, right? Plus I like the idea of Garth Nix's idea of Death - it being these gates that the dead must pass through. Oh! I also fancied the idea of Nero saving Dante's ass. Dante always does the saving, it's time for him to play the Damsel in Distress! Ha ha ha ha ha! Anyways, I'm trying to make this as close to canon as possible character-wise, atmosphere-wise, etc! This chapter is short, but I had to set the scene - yes? So keep on reading! You'll love where I'm going to take this bad boy.

_Love it? Hate it? Tell me in a review!_


	2. nine lives, nine lies

**Summary:** // Post DMC 4 // _With the downfall of Sanctus, Nero thought for sure that matters have finally calmed down. Yet instead it has only been beginning to boil. Learning his Devil Bringer can move through Death itself, when he turns for more answers Dante is gone. It seems the tables have turned: Dante now in trouble and Nero having to go out and rescue him. Problem is…to rescue Dante, he'll need the aid from the unlikeliest of beings – or should he say half-devils. But if there is one thing Nero has learned as a child, is to never trust demons and devils fully. And from the looks of it…his new companion is far from being trustworthy._

**A/N: JUST A QUICK LITTLE THANK YOU TO ALL MY REVIEWERS! YOU GUYS ARE AMAZING! THUS I DEDICATE THIS CHAPTER TO MY REVIEWERS! Thank you for supporting me and giving me your input. They mean so much to me.**

Disclaimer: Oh yeah...I don't own anything, save for characters I create and Kitty Whiskers (but I think the Bible might own him. Damn.).

**feed me a box of words**  
**chapter two:** nine lives, nine lies  
**written by:** of wolves and dogs

**"**_Now I feel my fluttering heart start again  
The live wire I swallowed in me**!  
**Who are you and what right do you have  
To restrain my freedom**,** my mic**,** on your standards  
Go away**!!** I can**'**t afford to lose any of my precious dreams of my life  
My dreams that were everything to me**...  
**I will let everyone know of this forgotten cry**,  
**This cry that has been turned into a tied up memory  
Today I will cross the boundary_**."**

Live Wire – Seo Taiji

* * *

She had collapsed on a chair half an hour ago, knees pressing together as she pried her fingernails off with her fingers. Eyes stared blankly in space, far away and nowhere near the present as lips were set into a firm line. Nero knew this look well; it spoke volumes to the point where he could hear the cogs in Kyrie's brain work in steady determination. She was trying to decipher and solve this puzzle that only seemed to grow more complicated. The closer she got to solving a section, the rest of the unattended sections expanded like rebellious diseases. So Nero kept quiet as she worked through her thoughts and instead chose to stare at the Yamato. The blade sat gently in its sheath on the table between them, the velvet wrappings lying underneath like a tablecloth. The wrapping smelled of something akin to masala chai and incense – something that he could not see coming from Dante. Dante usually smelled of gunpowder, sweat and cologne. This, however, was something entirely different – as if it has been rummaged into place after trekking through exotic unknown jungles.

Cardamom, cinnamon, ginger, star anise, peppercorn, and cloves. It was all of these scents that made up this chai scent. Nero gingerly announced his findings, embarrassed by the fact that maybe this little fact was pretty much useless. "Kyrie…it doesn't smell like Dante," Nero began as he scratched his nose in a gesture of discomfort, "It smells…different. Smells like this thing has just been through a spice booth." Kyrie blinked out of her trance before drinking in the words given to her. Slowly rising to her feet, she made her way to the blade, giving a hesitant look at the sheathed sword. She did not need to touch it to feel the icy waves being emitted from it. Nero did not seem to notice it as he picked it up and moved it aside. Shaking her head and the thoughts with it, she gently picked up the velvet wrapping. Bringing it to her nose, she inhaled the scents and found that Nero was correct. It smelled…of foreign soil that has been untamed…smelled regal yet wild… Taking another whiff of this exotic display of scents, she carefully placed it back down.

Nero meanwhile took up Yamato once more, curiosity driving him to gingerly bring his nose close to the hilt of Yamato. His nose picked up two scents he recognized: his own and Dante's. Despite the fact the third one was faint and the bottom layer of the scents, he caught the scents of incense and the cloves… The same scent the velvet gave off was also the same scent the hilt bore. "The hilt smells the same – faint, but the same," Nero mused out as he held onto the sword, watching as Kyrie gradually walked across the room to only walk back in a sluggish form of pacing.

"So…then this sword does not belong to Dante – "

Kyrie began but Nero cut her off by blurting out what he recalled in the past. Dante once said the sword was his brother's and that it had to stay in the family. Yet, it was always Dante going after the sword and not this brother of Dante's. "No…Dante said it's his brother's…but I think the brother is dead. Said it was…'sentimental'…so maybe this is just the dead brother's scent?" Nero helped out. Well that was fucking gross. He just sniffed a dead person. Shaking his head and swiping at his nose as if to rid the smell, he failed to see Kyrie toss her hands helplessly in the air and sit down in defeat. "Hmm…I got an idea though. I think if I call Devil May Cry I might get some answers. Hopefully this is just one hell of a prank. If not, then at least Gloria – shit, Trish – can give me some answers," Nero exclaimed, suddenly excited as he bounded toward the telephone, Yamato still in hand.

Kyrie only remained seated, eyes staring worriedly at the discarded velvet wrapping on the table.

Finally finding the onyx phone hanging from the wall, he grabbed the receiver and held it against his ear. Pinning it to his shoulder with the side of his head, he began to punch in the numbers that has forever been engraved into his skull. Hearing the dial tone, he straightened up when the phone was picked up. A feminine voice spoke through the other line, "Devil May Cry – look, we are not opened at the moment so – "

"Gloria – _shit, not again_ – I mean Trish! Look, it's me Nero! I need to talk to Dante, is he there?" Nero cut through as he moved closer to the phone, as if trying to keep the phone conversation more secretive and personal. A terse sigh filled his ear and he heard the shuffle of paper somewhere in the background. Nero shifted uneasily at the silence before closing his eyes. Licking his lips, he began again in a quieter tone, "He's gone, isn't he? When did he disappear?" Nero swore that if he was in the building, he would have seen Trish blink in shock at his words. Nero hit the nail right on the head on what was going on with Dante.

"Three days ago…he went off to handle a job while we were out of the shop doing other jobs. Things have been slowly getting busier – that is for sure. Well then it became an entire day where Dante has not returned whatsoever. We tried finding him in all the places he may be hanging around, but no Dante whatsoever. We tried calling him and no one picks up… We're worried…" Trish began smoothly and it took Nero a while to remember that the "we" meant Trish and the other girl working with Dante. He couldn't recall the name of this lady… But if they couldn't find Dante than that was a problem. Which meant that what just happened just hours ago was more than real. It was serious.

"I…I don't know how to explain this, so…just bear with me," Nero finally breathed out as he toyed with the hem of his shirt. "Usually Dante comes and visits me of the first of every month – you know that. Well he didn't show up tonight and then a demon appeared not too far away from where I was at. It was a shadow demon – Doppelganger," Nero went on and he heard Trish suddenly hum in interest when he spoke of the shadow demon. "So I went into Death to see what it wanted and it was being controlled from far off – either in the Demon Realm or somewhere far off in Death. It gave me a package – but it had Dante's voice when it spoke – told me to grab it," Nero felt his breath quicken, nervous energy making his words hurried and slam together.

"What was in the package?"

The sword in his hand suddenly seemed to deepfreeze, causing his hand to wince and nearly drop the sword. It was as if it knew its presence was once more being known after been momentarily forgotten. "Yamato…the Yamato was in it," Nero finished shakily, eyes glaring darkly at the sword for trying to freeze his hand to the handle. Silence came from the other line and he idly wondered if she hanged up on him by accident.

"…this is not good, Nero," she finally replied and the confidence that was always in her voice was now gone.

"Look, I think I was given Yamato for a reason – like with before. I don't think Dante's dead…I think he's trapped, because if he's dead than I have no idea what to do. There's no way you can bring back the dead," Nero spoke sharply; suddenly annoyed by the fact that solutions to this problem were nearly invisible. "I just…I need to know where to go to get clues or something. Is there a note about the recent job he took? An address? A name? Something?"

"No…nothing."

_Shit. Then what the fuck am I supposed to do? Sit down and wait!? _Grimacing, he scratched the back of his head furiously. Talk about the trail being cold. He had no idea where the heck to go? Dante didn't give him a note with the sword whatsoever or anything else. Nothing. Nada. Zilch. Zero.

"Actually…I think I might know where you can get answers," Trish began and from the sound of her voice, it seemed she truly did not want to tell the next batch of information. "I'm not supposed to tell anyone this, but I think it's alright if you know," she added after a moment of thought. "Well…whether you are aware of this or not, but when Dante was young he lost his mother due to demons. The attack decimated the house the family used to live in and ever since the attack the entire area has slowly turned into a ghost town. No one lives around the area. So before Dante met me, he actually went back to the area and began to rebuild the house. His intention was to have another 'base' so he could expand the range of jobs. It's because of this were we able to get hired for jobs – like the one in Fortuna," Trish began and Nero blinked in surprise. He wasn't aware that Dante lost his mother due to demons, plus the fact Dante had a childhood home. Nero just…always had it in his head that Dante was always living the Devil May Cry building. He wasn't sure why…he also wasn't sure what this house had to do with anything. He needed a possible clue to find Dante and knowing he resurrected the old childhood home years and years ago was not enlightening him. "I believe…I think that you should go to the house. You might find someone to help you find Dante…" she finally finished cryptically and Nero only furrowed his brows and frowned at the wall. Someone? Shaking his head, he gave a grunt in agreement. Maybe he could find clues there – maybe Dante was there or a sign of some sort.

"Alright then…just give me the address and I'll meet you there," Nero replied as he placed his hand over the receiver and called out for Kyrie. The young woman came a minute later, looking inquisitively at him. "You got paper and a pen?" he asked as she nodded and walked off to get the supplies.

"Listen closely and don't share this with anyone else," Trish began as Nero made a grabbing gesture at Kyrie. A pad of paper was placed in his hand along with a pen as he began to scribble down the address in handwriting that looked more like ragged lines and curves of ink. "Look…Nero, we won't be able to meet you there. Lady and I need to stay put. The phone is always ringing and I have a bad feeling if we left the area unattended to right now. Something is going on…something is awakening. There are too many demons around - more than usual. So you'll have to go alone," she spoke and those words only made a sense of purpose grip him followed by a tinge of fear. The fear only birthed into adrenaline as he said his goodbyes and hanged up the phone.

"You're leaving…aren't you. Rest first...," Kyrie spoke, her words not a question but a mere fact being stated. Nero gave a solemn nod as he stared at Yamato that remained in his hand still. It felt as if it was stuck to his hand now and he dared not pry it off in fear of tearing the skin off his palm. Just like the problem before him now – he was glued to it and if he turned away from it, who knew what would happen. This was just the tip of the iceberg…who knew what the entire iceberg looked like, and he hoped he would never have to know or see it.

* * *

The devil obviously existed in the shape of a medium-sized motorboat that reeked of sardines and rotting seaweed. The excitement Nero felt when he first stepped onto the boat was quickly diminished as the boat fell up and down in a rocking gesture over the churning water. He wished he wasn't so hungry this morning and ate more than enough helpings of eggs and potatoes. The optimistic voice in his head reminded him that he was finally off of the island and fulfilling his own faraway adventure. The negative voice in his head did not need to say anything; just a glance at his breakfast floating in the water was enough. Boats and water equaled vomiting out your breakfast.

_I can fight with demons five times my size…but when it comes to boats…I am weak to the stomach. Pathetic! _He harassed himself, hands gripping onto the rail as if it was his lifeline. Soon – soon he would be off of this boat and onto land. Already he could make out the port in the horizon and he forced himself to imagine the firm and stable ground. Thank god ground was coming to meet his feet soon because he could feel dinner begging to be ejected out of his mouth. _Come on! Make it! Make it! Make it! Make it! _He chanted, encouraging his stomach to keep the food in and not out. It was working! He couldn't believe it! He could see the port right now! There was sanctuary! There was relief! He was going to make it without throwing up! God he could not wait to kiss the ground! The minute the boat hit the port, Nero leaped out as he gave a hoot in excitement! Flipping the body of water off, he gave a wild grin, "Take that you son of a bitc - _blleeeuughh!_"

_God dammit! There goes last night's dinner…_

After kindly being given a water bottle from the disturbed captain of the small motorboat, he did his best to swish out the taste of vomit out of his mouth. Nero was surprised as he moved off of the port when he saw a waking organized mess ahead of him. Police were manning the entrance/exit of the area. They loomed over the scene like sentinels, eyes shining with suspicion that gave their worry away. Nero grumbled out a curse as his hand touched his Devil Bringer. While Fortuna accepted the arm that did not mean that others would too. Tugging at the sleeve of his right arm, he noted with distaste that his hand was visible (plus he forgot his glove and sling). He forgot that he might encounter others on his journey. A glance at the boat he emerged off of told Nero he could go back. Time, though, was of the essence…and…he really did _not_ want to go on the boat again.

Giving out a ragged exhale of air, he moved onward. Shoving his right hand into his pocket, he approached the barricade of police and cars. "Papers, son?" the police asked as he stared in suspicion at this magnolia-white haired youth and then at the Red Queen on his back. Nero just stared in disbelief before scoffing at this all.

"Papers? It's not like I just came from a different country," Nero snapped back irritably, honestly expecting these guys to just check the pack on his shoulder and let him be. "What do you want me to do – sing the fuckin' national anthem?" Nero added and the police officer gave him a look that said he was not impressed whatsoever.

"Son, we need to see papers and an ID."

_He needs to stop calling me 'son' or I'm going to shove my ID up his ass. _Growling, he took his wallet out of his pocket. As he opened it to tug his ID out, he stared in growing horror at his glowing hand. _Oh fuck…_ He honestly should have placed his wallet in his left pocket this morning. Before he could jerk his hand away from view, the cop sputtered and burst into a sea of hysterics. "DEMON! DEMON!" he shouted and Nero rolled his eyes as the other officers rushed over. _Just perfect…just fan – fuckin – tastic! _Someone grabbed him by the hair and mercilessly shoved him down to his knees. Hissing in pain at this, he shot a glare at the nearest officer as all guns were trained on him.

"Can I put my wallet away now?" Nero asked dryly.

"Shut the fuck up, demon!"

_Great, now I'm going to get shot by the firing squad! I didn't even get past the damn city limits yet! Worst rescue trip ever. _

"What is going on over here?" a new voice penetrated the scene, rumbling through the area and easing the tensed police officers. Nero only pursed his lips and looked to his left to see a higher ranking officer come in. Possibly the chief. Maybe he could beat some intelligence into his stupid men. "At ease men…at ease," the man spoke as he moved through, Nero watching with a smug grin as the guns were turned away from him at the moment. _That's right bitches…not so tough now, huh? _The man approached him, graying hair situated on his head and wearing a uniform that accentuated broad shoulders. Man looked as if he could take down a bear if he wanted to. "I recognize that hair anywhere…would you please come into my office?" the man asked and Nero gave a careful nod as he stood up. Shoving his wallet back into his pocket, he followed after the man. Of course Nero made sure to flip off the puzzled officers before he turned the corner.

It was when they entered a small restaurant did Nero raise an eyebrow in confusion. A restaurant was the guy's office? Before he could repeat this out loud, he found that any resemblance of the restaurant it once was gone. He felt as if he just entered a police station mixed with an office building for egocentric lawyers. Seemed the authorities took over this part of the city. "Take a seat, please. My name is Yarieck – Chief of this area and currently in control of this crossing point as of now. You wouldn't happen to be Dante's kid, would you?"

"Hell no!" Nero shot back out angrily, face flaring in silent insult. No way did he want to be related to that old fart of a pervert. "Sir," Nero added after a moment, forgetting his nearly nonexistent manners. "I know of him…and I know that I share the same hair color, but…it's not because I'm related to him," Nero went on, feeling a bit uneasy at the heavy scrutiny the man was putting him under.

"Ah, I see. I apologize…I know he comes through here often and seeing you made me instantly think of him. Dante often lingers about – making sure all demon problems are taken care of…especially since matters are beginning to worsen. Is there a reason why you are crossing into the area?"

Nero licked his lips, not really sure if telling the Chief was the right thing to do. Scratching his head, he made an uncomfortable gesture with his left hand before speaking, "I live in Fortuna Island, and I am passing through to find Dante. Something happened to him…I'm not sure whether he is trapped in the Demon Realm, Death or dead himself. So I am going out to search for him…"

Silence fell on the room like a heavy blanket, stifling the two as the Chief stared at the floor in thought. "What of the city? Are you also here to take his place then if he is…" he couldn't finish the sentence and Nero sadly shook his head. He was not here to take Dante's place, he was here to pass through and go find Sparda's house. He was here on a search and rescue mission, not on an assuming titles and positions mission.

"Dante's partners are still looking over the Devil May Cry and are doing their best to keep the demons at bay. But…if Dante truly is dead, then whatever protection he has over the city will vanish eventually – possibly soon. But I am not here to protect the city – I have my own home to protect. I'm just here passing through so I can find that old fart."

The Chief stood up and saluted smartly, "I wish you every success on your mission…"

"Nero, the name's Nero."

"Then I wish you every success on your mission, Nero. I hope to see Dante and you soon," the Chief finished.

It was an hour later did Nero find himself a good distance away from the crossing point and on his way once more. Nero couldn't help but feel guilty as he walked further and further away. The people – the authorities – needed him to help them…but…_Dammit. Forget it. Move forward. _He had long ago tugged his right sleeve up to expose his Devil Bringer to use it as a source of light for the map he now had. The Chief gave him a map of the area and all of its borders, and he was pleased to see that this was helping him greatly. He only wished they could have given him a car or something. Walking was making his feet hurt like hell.

It was three hours later did he find the first dead civilian on his journey. Body lay strewn about, having been hacked into by demons. More soon came into view and Nero felt his stomach tighten in sickening distress. No wonder why the cops were so tense – demons were slaughtering the civilians as if they were piñatas. He could already smell the blood coming from deep within the buildings and he resisted the urge to pinch his nose. Nero needed to keep on moving forward but drew the Red Queen out to be safe, his Devil Bringer having been glowing long ago. The further he moved away from the cops, the more heavy the carnage. He couldn't even hear any daily noises from people or even animals. It was like he entered into a ghost town.

Once again he felt the temptation to bring these people back to life, to give them a second chance at life. But he had no idea what would happen to them if he did. They might turn into mindless drones or only be ruined even more. He had no clue and he did not want to abuse their already dead corpses and souls. Plus it was getting dark; he was risking his own safety by entering death in such an area like this. The sky ahead was being pushed aside by a northern wind, revealing the twinkling of stars and signaling that night has finally came upon him in this once cloudy area. Darkness was rising as the half moon shinned with her pale light at him in this gray and crimson painted scene.

* * *

From a glance on the map, he reached an area called Swallowtail's Beak. Glancing upward, he made out the jutting earth that did look like a massive beak from a bird, save for that tall slab of rock that was sticking out on top. Already he was climbing the side of it without even knowing, so it would be just a matter of an half an hour or so before he reached the top. There he will rest and be able to look tomorrow morning at the area around him with sunlight as his lamp.

The city was no more and he had long ago reached the outskirts of the city and now was treading on untamed lands. The seasons seemed to be different from how it was in Fortuna. Fortuna was still in the sprawls of Fall yet over here it seemed Winter was upon him. His jacket had long ago been zipped up and he wished idly he brought a thicker coat, but his Devil Bringer – being the heat emitter it is – did good with warming him up if he rubbed his cheek with it. This only made him wonder more about his Devil Bringer and what exactly it was capable of and what exactly it was in general. He only wished he could recall how he gained the arm, for he was certain he was not born with it. These thoughts swarmed around his head like curious flies to the scent of carrion. Yet it did seem to speed time up, for when he took another step he found his foot hitting level ground. Blinking in silence, he found himself on top of Swallowtail's Beak, a sea of nausea suddenly hitting him. It wasn't the height that made him sick; it was the strange slab of rock that he thought was previously out of place on Swallowtail's Beak. It was no slab of rock…it was a Hell Gate. Blood heavily saturated the grounds of the gate and he spotted eleven bodies strewn on the ground. Sacrifices…

Someone killed these men to create this gate.

Nero walked closer to the gate, fear growing like an ulcer in his body. There were no signs it was open but the blood was not fresh. This had not been recent and as he moved closer, he saw that there were officers that were lying dead in their own dried blood. Nero could smell the heavy demon stench wafting off of the grounds and he looked around, trying to see if there were demons about. He only saw darkness and whatever the pale moon exposed to him in her light. _I could go into Death…bring them back…_ He shook his head savagely, growling at himself for openly tempting himself once more. He could not meddle in the affairs of a human's life – or rather, death. _I could find one…ask what happened…get information. _Now that sounded like a logical thing to do and he could feel that one of their souls were not far into Death.

Shrugging his pack off that Kyrie packed the night before, he rummaged through for something to eat. He needed energy, or else if he tired he too would be swept into Death's tricky embrace. Finding an apple, he ravenously bit into it as he stared out into the darkness, eyes occasionally flickering to his Devil Bringer to see if it picked up any demons nearby. So far so good. Just as he was about to toss the apple core and stand up, a soft rumbling sound touched his ears. Turning toward the direction of the sound, he found the Hell Gate giving off a soft glow. _Shit. Something is trying to get out. _Nero wasn't sure if he had the energy to fight a demon that was coming from this Hell Gate.

Already it was too late to do anything as he saw a massive onyx paw come out of the gate and slam onto the ground. Nero struggled to keep his balance before falling on his rear end, snarling in defense when small rocks stabbed his backside mercilessly. _Nature better watch the fuck out or I'm going to beat the shit out of her too! _He hastily got to his feet and moved when another paw came out and landed in the area where he has previously been sitting. Squinting into the dark, he saw a head emerge before an entire body left the gate. Swallowtail's Beak was now crowded by this massive lion that seemed to have been made by the night sky itself. The only thing that shinned with light had to be the fire that seemed to drip out of its mouth as smoke left its nostrils.

_What a big cat. _

"I am Marbas, Duke of Hell – ruler of thirty-six legions! The giver and taker of diseases! The shape shifter of humans!" it roared out, fire vomiting out of its mouth and falling onto the ground in large heaps. It singed the stubble of grass on the ground and heated the earth beneath it until it cracked in heat. Nero only fanned himself as he gazed up at this large lion, making sure to be away from this vomit of fire.

"Woah there, pussycat. You should see a doctor – I don't think throwing up fire is normal," Nero mused out, watching as the large demon turned its heavy head toward him. Nero gave a cocky grin as he gave a childish wave.

"How dare you insult me, you mere ant!" it roared, stomping its feet in indignation, making Nero once more try to balance his body from the mild tremors the demon was causing.

Placing his hands up in defense, he gave a soft whistle in awe at this massive kitty cat, "Insult you! No way, kitty! I actually might be your number one fan!" The lion seemed to pause and tilt its head in curiosity before lifting his head proudly upward. Of course this mere ant should find him admirable. "You can cure diseases – man, I know a guy who is always sleeping around with girls. A real pervert – I'm actually kind of looking for him at the moment. I am ninety-nine percent sure he has herpes and other STDs. You can totally cure him! We should buddy up! It'll be great – they'll make a show out of us and it'll be called 'Nero and the Pussy!' What about – " Nero explained cheerfully but was cut off by the sound of an outraged yowl.

"WHAT!?"

"Oh…yeah…that title does sound dirty… People might think it's a porno… Damn, sorry. How about – " Nero realized as he scratched his head, barely missing the massive paw that swiped at him. A grin danced on his face as he lightly began to croon to the massive demon, "Pussycat, pussycat, I've got flowers – " It slammed its paws once more on the ground and Nero gave a yelp in surprise when the ground he was standing on gave away, causing him to tumble gracelessly to the bottom. He was pleased to say…he landed on his pack and on his Devil Bringer, however his head was reeling when it smacked into the side of Swallowtail's Beak on his way down. Growling, he cracked his eyes open to see the massive demon giving out a guttural roar in victory. _Damn fuckin' cat! _Slowly pushing himself up, leaving the decimated pack on the ground, he felt his entire body become sore at the movement.

"What's new pussycat? Woaaaahhh!" Nero sang out, causing the demon to growl before running down the face of the deformed Swallowtail's Beak. "Oh shit," Nero exclaimed as he turned around and immediately burst into a full-out sprint. God damn this cat had zero sense of humor! He was just trying to lighten up the scene! "Pussycat, pussycat – shit, shit shit – you're so thrilling and I'm so willing – fuck fuck fuck – to care for youuuu!" Nero kept on singing (with the chanting of curse words) as he began running in a complicated path, the lion of a demon having nearly lunged at him if he hadn't jerked to the right.

"I will rip you to shreds and set your corpse on fire! I will tell Lord Lucifer myself about you and he himself will make sure all those related to you become placemats for my Lord's feet!"

_Man, and he sounds so serious about it too. Maybe it's my singing…_ "So go and make up your big pussycat eyes," he sang out – off pitch and out of tune – as he turned around, Devil Bringer pulled back and eyes already fixiated on the demon's head. With that 'devil may care but I obviously don't give a fuck' grin on his face, his demonically possessed arm struck true. The massive beast was sent yowling back like a cat shoved in water, flames spewing into the air like shooting stars on the fritz. Confidence gripped his fatigued body as he jogged onward, eager to slam this kitty into the ground. "Pussycat, pussycat, you're deliiiiiiiccciiouuuss!" Nero went onward with his singing, positive he was making Tom Jones damn proud. It seemed Kitty Whiskers didn't like his tune, because soon the demon became a ball of fire. _Ball of fur became a ball of fire. Didn't see that one coming. _A wave of heat buffeted him and he nearly choked as it seemed to strangle his lungs, making his eyes tear up. Rubbing his eyes, when he opened them he found an angry, burning Duke of Hell running at him like a bat out of hell. _More like cat out of hell – oh shit! _

Once more he spun on his heels and dashed onward, something telling him that with his already tired body and the lack of witty rejoinders that he might just get his ass handed to him. _I just want to take a simple cat nap – okay, I'm stopping now. _Shaking his head, he wondered if he made a mistake by serenading to Marbas: this giant-sized lion that was spewing out flames who obviously didn't know a good joke if it bit him on the ass and waved. Groaning in disbelief at himself, he was pleased to find himself entering the thicket of trees before him. A forest. Good. He would lose the demon in here.

Then the trees became alit with flames.

"OH COME ON! GIVE ME A BREAK, KITTY WHISKERS!" Nero shouted as the lion stampeded onward, trees crackling along with the fire that was devouring them whole. It was after stumbling over a root or two, did he stumble out. It seemed that this forest was more like just a cluster of trees and shrubbery. But that wasn't what caught his attention, what caught his attention was the massive mansion. _Is this it? The house!?_

"I WILL BURN YOUR FLESH AND USE YOUR BONES AS TOOTHPICKS!"

_Oh god, this better be the house! _Nero scrambled onward, not even daring to look back – he could already feel the heat against his neck and arm. As he was forty feet near the house, he felt invisible hands tug at him, making his world tilt as if he was off balanced. Whatever was grabbing him seemed to accept him and let him go onward, his body more like jerking and falling to the porch than sprinting toward it. A wild yowl filled the air and the sound of the demon running stopped as it growled in frustration. Weakly glancing back, he found Marbas pacing about in frustration far off, as if something was preventing him from entering further. A sigh of relief escaped him as he felt himself sink onto the porch.

Eyes moved toward the door, body heaving for oxygen, and that is when nearly sun-kissed earthy-hued boots were in his line of vision. Tilting his head further back, he found eyes of icy-blue gazing down at him with locks of snow-white adorning his head. "Hello…Dante," Nero mumbled as the man only blinked it silence. Nero's eyes drifted downward, eyelids beginning to grow heavy, and that is when he spotted what looked like a silver collar with a blood-red, diamond-shaped amulet hanging loosely in the middle. Nero only stared, brain not even comprehending what a collar _was_ at the moment.

"Ah," the man spoke, the voice sounding like a perfected symphony that breathed of permafrost and the Arctic Circle. "You brought Yamato…how thoughtful." Nero stared at the man before his vision became blurry, exhaustion finally catching up to him. Without another sound past his lips, he passed out, missing the controlled, caustic yet carnivorous smirk that formulated on pale salmon lips. The cat and mouse game outside the house's boundaries may be on hold, but the cat and mouse game inside has just begun.

* * *

**A/N: **Vergil smells pretty... Review for pretty-smelling Vergil?

_Love it? Hate it? Tell me in a review!_


	3. at your service

**summary: **_// _Post DMC 4 // _Nero liked the idea of playing hero and saving Dante's ass, but when did playing 'hero' suddenly mean asking help from a monstrous secret Dante has been hiding from Nero since day one? All things come with a price and Nero has a bad feeling that Vergil is going to request for more than just Yamato…_

**disclaimer: **I do not own Devil May Cry, Nero, Dante, Vergil, etc. I wish...

**A/N: I have been really inspired for this story...so the updates coming quickly. So expect an update coming up soon after this one, too! :) OH! And updated the summary!**

**feed me a box of words  
chapter three:** at your service  
**written by: **of wolves and dogs

_**"**That was when I ruled the world  
It was the wicked and wild wind  
Blew down the doors to let me in  
Shattered windows and the sound of drums  
People couldn't believe what I**'**d become  
Revolutionaries wait  
For my head on a silver plate**."**_

- Viva La Vida by Coldplay

* * *

The teenager woke up to the sound of his own legs moving pristine-white sheets, eyes flaring in alert. Eyes stared upward at the ceiling, a creamy tinge capturing its hardened skin as the shadow from flickering candles danced in silence. Yet if he squinted, he could make out soft patterns on the ceiling that looked like miniature stars. Or maybe he was making things up; he could not remember this being in his room in Fortuna – _oh. _He remembered now, he left to find Dante…and he ended up here after being chased by Marbas. Pushing himself to sit up, he gazed at the room in quiet awe before plopping back down on the bed. Someone honestly spent a good amount of time and care to make this room breathe with character and life.

Nero turned his head onto the pillow and noticed the bed was low to the ground that was covered with creamy, waxed wood flooring. A medium-sized rug that matched the hue of the pristine-white sheets lay on the floor before the bed, looking as if it was nearly just a day old. The room itself was massive and neatly in place, clear-cut frames of photos only occupying certain areas on the wall with much scarcity. White mountain heather flowers stood in perfect arrangement in a slender white vase, cream horizontal stripes running across it. Nero remembered vaguely that once Kyrie said that the flowers stood for protection against danger. He gave a wry smile as he stretched in the bed, body popping in sweet relief.

Danger? He felt so safe now.

Turning his head to the windows, he found the curtains over them, making it difficult for him to know what time of day it was. He could also not recall how he got into this room let alone into the house. All he could recall was running and then passing out outside before the complex. Cracking his neck, he went to look around the room from where he sat but stopped when a pair of arctic-blue eyes met his. It was the eyes of – of well Dante! Yet just as he was about to exclaim the male's name, he noticed a stark difference between Dante and the man sitting elegantly on a vanilla-colored chair. There was something harsh and cold about this man – clear cut and stoic, in heavy comparison to the jovial and warm Dante. Even the hairstyles were different – while Dante's hair hung around his face, this man's hair was slicked back into spikes. _Plus he doesn't have facial hair! _How many times has he heard from Dante about how it was his stubble that made the 'ladies fall on their knees' for him? Nero shook his head, stifling a chuckle. Instead he turned his attention back at the silent male that just stared unblinkingly.

"Who…what are you?" Nero finally asked, already getting the notion that this man was far from being human. He had to avert his eyes away from the older male's icy orbs, the unblinking and icy gaze making him nervous and uncomfortable. So his eyes were casted onto his own bare abdomen and that is when he noticed he was bare of any clothing. He suddenly felt defenseless as his eyes flickered toward his clothes, finding them nowhere. Nero soon found Red Queen, Blue Rose and the rest of his clothes on a chair far off near an open fireplace that roared with life. The room was massive and he wondered what else resided past the walls of just this section. The only thing that brought him comfort was the fact that Yamato was still residing in his Devil Bringer, waiting to be called out if needed.

"I am called by many names – none too flattering," the man began, eyes closed in gentle bliss as if the names others have given him were all but amusing in his ears. Nero recalled the sound of the voice before he passed out before. A perfected symphony that…was not melodic whatsoever. Instead it was just the raw power underneath the instruments that coated the vocal chords carried with such a constant, cynical disdain on everything whether it was intentional or not. Then there was the softest hints of a nasally inflection that only seemed to amplify the cold demeanor he wore like a sleeve. "But you may call me Vergil. As to what I am? Well…what is your arm's verdict?" Vergil mused, fingers flicking toward Nero's arm before holding Vergil's chin as his elbow rested on the chair's arm. Nero turned toward his Devil Bringer, bringing it out from the comfort of the sheets as he gazed at it. It was neither burning nor shinning brilliantly like it would if a demon was right before him. Yet it gave the softest of glows like a candle slowly being stroked into full height as wax melted all around the flame. So…Vergil was neither demon nor human…

"You are…both?" Nero asked curiously, still staring at his Devil Bringer as if it would somehow reveal more.

"A hybrid – yes. Human blood muddies my veins…" came the bitter response before lips morphed into a pursed frown. "But while I may be a half-devil…I am primarily a servant of Sparda. Unless you would be so kind and remove this collar," the hybrid continued, a rueful grin etched on his face as if he could not even believe his own predicament and the irony of his own words. Silent frustration was only revealed through the grin and the sardonic tone in his words before sinking into a curious purr of offers.

Nero only hummed in thought at first at this information. So then there was no relation to Dante then. Why would a family member be labeled as a servant? Yet why did this hybrid wear the face of Dante's? Maybe this was just the half-devil's ability? To change appearances? _Isn't Dante also a half-devil?_ That was true… The information was not connecting to his prior knowledge and it was when Vergil asked to have the collar taken off did he give an uneasy smile. Vergil was still half a demon and whatever kept him bound with this collar bound him for a reason – possibly by Sparda himself. As far as Nero could feel, the collar itself was ancient – or at least the miniature blood-red amulet in the middle**_*_**. The power inside of it reeked of old magic of binding and controlling, and who knew what would happen if the collar was taken off. Nero wondered idly why Dante never mentioned that he had a half-demon in this place. Well…then again Dante never even told him of Sparda's house.

"I thought as much…" Vergil drawled out, looking more like a languid feline relaxing than a bound hybrid under Sparda's jurisdiction. With a soft hum leaving his lips for a brief second, he arose to his feet like a regal king before moving toward the fireplace. Nero watched in amazement at Vergil's shadow. The shadow would shift, growing in form into a bulky creature before changing once more into a slender form, a craggy grin almost seeming to be etched into the shadow as Vergil passed. Nero swore he saw the shadow beckon to him but when he blinked it was only the older hybrid's shadow and nothing more. A knock broke through the atmosphere as Vergil disappeared further into the room as if he knew it would come. The door swung open after a moment to reveal possibly the strangest of sights.

It was a statue.

Slender in form and moving with smooth strides not possible, as its gray skin of stone moved toward him. Nero narrowed his eyes dangerously; Devil Bringer already curled into a tight fist. "Calm down…it is only servant," a patronizing voice sounded and Nero glared darkly at the amused Vergil that was now leaning against the wall. "Anima Mercury has breathed life into these statues… Proof of Dante's infinite laziness to do his own work and his gutter-filled brain by making sure the statues are all…" Vergil continued in a bored voice as he made a small gesture with his hand at the statue's visage. Nero felt his cheeks nearly flare in embarrassment as he realized that the statue was no ordinary statue. _Of course he would make sure all of the statues are of NUDE WOMEN! Fucking pervert!_ But Nero knew of Anima Mercury – he received it in Fortuna Island when he was on his search to find Dante. It helped power the Gyro blades when he reached Fortuna Castle. It seemed Dante used the Anima Mercury to bring statues to life…he hated to admit it, but Dante sure was clever when it came to avoiding household chores.

Before Nero could tell Vergil that his Devil Bringer also contained Anima Mercury's power, the statue promptly tugged the sheets off of him, Nero hastily covering himself with a pillow in response. Yelping in surprise, the statue then beckoned for him to follow him deeper into the room. Nero blushed hotly at he realized that the statue wanted him to parade around naked to who knows where in front of the cynical hybrid. A glance at Vergil made him nearly gape in indignation. That damn Dante look-alike was smirking like the devil himself – as if this was possibly the greatest source of entertainment. The sound of running water sounded from afar and that is when he recalled the demon.

"She wants you to hurry…the water will get cold," Vergil mused, eyes starting critically at Nero's bare body as a cat-like smirk licked his lips. Nero scoffed and pulled the sheet around him.

"I – I know. But what about the demon? I should get rid of it first before I take a _bath_," he scorned back and Vergil only gave a gentle shrug of his broad shoulders.

"The demon has been slain – as it has been two days prior from today," Vergil articulated, causing Nero to blink in silence; he has been out of commission for nearly three days?! Was it Vergil who killed the demon? Or was it the statues? He doubted it was the statues…they didn't look like the killing type. Nero stared blandly at nothing, the sight of Dante being his regular treasure hunting self swiping nude female statues for his own pleasure. _What a pervert_. Nero stood up after the thought, hands still holding the sheets to his waist as Vergil's eyes remained on him. Nero huffed and growled in response, a graceful eyebrow being lifted in retaliation.

"Close your eyes," Nero growled out, causing Vergil to only cross his arms leisurely across his chest and close his eyes. Well the good thing was that at least this Dante-look-alike didn't act like Dante. If Dante was in Vergil's place, he was dead certain that pervert would be wolf whistling at him. Making sure Vergil's eyes were securely closed by cautiously going up to him and waving his hand before his eyes; he dropped the sheets and hurried out of the bedroom. Turning the corner, he found that he was entering a massive bathroom. What he also noted was that there wasn't a shower nozzle in sight. Instead there was a large copper basin filled to the brim with hot water. The statue stood patiently beside the basin as Nero hastily moved to it, waiting for the statue to move aside so he could wash himself. He stared curiously at the partially grilled section of the marble-floored bathroom. What an old-style bathroom – he saw one just like it in Fortuna Castle. The statue stepped forward and before Nero could do anything, the statue upended the whole basin over his head. A stream of curse words left his lips as the hot water hit his skin. The statue already was gathering more hot water as a bar of soap came in view in its hands. Its forever frozen eyes of stone seemed to be focused on his head and he snarled in warning.

"W-what are you doing!?" Nero shouted out as the statue began to scrub at his back before turning to his chest and arms. "HEY! I can wash myself, lady! Dante might like it you're all physical but I do not!" Nero hissed, but the statue went on with her duties diligently. It kept on scrubbing at him as if there was a layer of invisible dirt that needed to be attacked. Occasionally the statue would stop to gather more water and pour it at him. Eyes flickered wildly about, looking for some sort of escape and his eyes found Vergil. "How do I stop it?" he asked Vergil who only situated himself on a chair far off with eyes gazing indifferently at the ceiling. _Fucking bastard, I know you heard me. _More water hit his head and he yelped in offence when the statue began to scrub his nether regions. "WOAHWOAHWOAH! HEY! No! Hands off, woman! I can take care of that area – hey! DID YOU HEAR ME!?" Nero exclaimed as he tried to move away, but was only grabbed firmly by the wrist and pulled back forth to earn another basin of water. Nero never felt so violated in his entire life.

"You can't," Vergil finally replied, those diluted blue eyes turning toward him in mirth at the entire spectacle. "This one is stubborn…I believe one of Dante's favorite," he added after a moment of thought before standing up and brushing himself off. "I am sure…that if you cooperate, this low-grade _thing _will finish her job," Vergil sighed as he looked at the statue with disdain. Nero had a faint hunch that Vergil used to have gone under this same treatment – or maybe he still does. Who knew? The statue seemed to retaliate by flicking water at the hybrid, causing him to hiss in offence and walk off.

"W-Wait! Vergil! Don't leave me! Dammit! H-Hey! Keep on touching me and you're going to owe me dinner and a movie!" Nero huffed before crossing his arms across his chest with a childish pout on his face through the entire bath (or 'torture session'). Nero emerged into the section of the room where the bedroom laid smelling like lemon with his combed hair (courtesy of Miss Violator the Statue). Glaring daggers at the impassive Vergil that relaxed luxuriously on a chair, he made a big show of putting on his clothes as he grumbled out curses to the statues and to everyone in general.

A clock gave a deep chime that echoed throughout the house and the hybrid instantly perked up. "Hurry...it is time for supper," Vergil chastised before sauntering out of the room like a cat that only moved to his own agenda and nothing else. Nero huffed and hastily followed after Vergil, not wanting to get lost. The house – or rather a mansion – was massive from the outside, who knew how large it truly was inside? Struggling to meet Vergil's smooth strides and pace, he found himself entering an extravagant dining room. Or at least he thought he would…instead there was something so untouched and welcoming about this dining room. It was neither brimming wealth nor homely. Instead he was given this strange close and intimate sensation as he was shown his seat by another statue. The table was an onyx hue and could hold six all together. A vase with white mountain heather stood in the middle beside white candles that had been lit to life. In all it looked like this table was meant for a family of four or more – give or take if guests were present. But what made him give a small smile was the fact that two of the four walls were of pure glass. They revealed tall trees taking home in a yard covered with faint traces of snow – winter was finally showing her true colors. But a glance outside told him that dusk was upon them…

"You better sit or they won't serve us… I am surprised they are going to feed me – they usually fancy me starving," Vergil informed before giving a hardened stare at the lingering statues that watched in the sidelines.

"I expect it was good for you," Nero replied back as he took a seat, a servant instantly pushing his chair in for him and placing a napkin on his lap. Vergil gave him a sour look that read somewhere along the lines of, '_How dare you side with these atrocities called stone_.' Nero only gave a smug grin; they probably were not fond of Vergil as was the Sparda family in general – seeing someone bound the hybrid. Nero happily dug into the meal set before him of Cajun catfish that was served with the right touch of spices and flavor. The hybrid remained silent on Nero's table manners as he scarfed down the meal down with a passion. "Anyways," Nero paused as he took a gulp of water, missing the look of birthing disturbance and disgust from the silent hybrid, "How did you know I was coming?"

"You were off key and tune…sour notes carry through the air," Vergil replied wryly over a glass of wine before taking sip. Nero had a silent hunch that Vergil was not very talkative but if he truly was bound to Sparda and literally caged in this house, then those you could possibly converse to were slim. So that silent hunch of his told him that this hybrid was making sure to express his pent up frustration and snarky behavior at any available ear. _And I'm the lucky victim. Asshole…and I was off key for a reason! _Nero only stared firmly at the half-devil who only relaxed against his chair, looking more like a king as he held the glass of wine with delicate ease. "Even though this binding on me erodes my senses and powers…I am always aware of when things rise and fall," he replied cryptically, making Nero suddenly lose his appetite. Was he implying that Dante _was _dead!?

"What do you mean 'fall'?"

"Everyone and thing has a time to die…" came the words that made all taste in his mouth become vinegar. Half-lidded eyes stared back at him coolly before the wine glass once more touched the hybrid's salmon-hued lips. Nero looked down at his plate, feeling his vision blur as he tried to digest this information. He felt sick – there was no way Dante could be dead. He felt Dante's presence – he was unable to truly pinpoint that Dante was dead! That must mean he is still alive. Eyes closed as he felt that border between Life and Death, his Devil Bringer giving out a soft sigh as it glowed gently. He could feel the demons that surrounded the house far off and then the Hell Gate that breathed like a cancerous creature itself. Then came a familiar feeling of cologne and mint. Nero focused on the scent, trying to throw himself toward that scent before something sharp slapped him back into Life. Eyes flung open to see furious orbs of now gray bore into him as Nero touched his cheek that stung at his touch. A growl in anger gripped him as he met Vergil's glare with his own.

"You foolish child – do you wish to break the protection this house is under?!" he spat out; body looming over Nero's sitting body. Nero bit his tongue, anxious to spit out a proud rebuttal but kept quiet. Vergil's words held truth for he did feel all the demons anxiously surrounding the area and waiting for the defenses to fall. "Two living swords – Agni and Rudra – have been heavily buried in the grounds of this house. They are the reason why nothing can come more than forty-feet of this house. Will you jeopardize your own safety and the house's to toss yourself into Death? If you are so willing to die…leave the house and ask your numerous of executioners to do the deed," the male hissed as Nero felt his glare falter at these heavy words.

Gritting his teeth, he finally released a ragged sigh in defeat as his head dropped in shame. "I'm sorry…" Nero finally replied, watching Vergil's grip on the side of the table before him slowly relax as he accepted the apology. "But…I felt Dante's presence…he is not dead. He is trapped…I could bring him back," Nero softly breathed out.

"You must not. Assuming he is alive is foolish. He sent you Yamato…if he was so sure that he would see the light of day then he would have kept the sword. Even he knows the dangers of bringing Yamato with him to Death and then the Demon Realm."

"You are so sure of Death itself – how would you know what even goes on?" Nero bit back bitterly, causing the older male to give a dark chuckle.

"I have walked through Death more than once and she is constantly spitting me back out in disgust. I know more than you can ever imagine… Dante's path has been chosen – he is more or less dead. Your path is not to bring him back – it is a fool's errand," Vergil articulated with perfected ease, as if he was more proud of his feat than anything else.

"I don't have to walk this path!"

Vergil looked as if he was about to protest once more when Nero met Vergil's gaze with a heated glare. Vergil stopped himself and gave a sardonic laugh as he shook his head. "Why should I care what you do or do not? If you die…it will only be another soul for the taking. Do as you wish – I am not your keeper nor am I Dante's. You are only wishing he is alive…"

"I feel it, Vergil! My soul is screaming at me that he is there. I must find out if this feeling is real or not!" Nero replied back hotly, his palm slapping the table and making the silverware and glasses shake. Vergil only sighed and took a seat beside Nero who sat at the end of the table, his legs habitually crossing over another that spoke of years and years of refined manners being engraved into the body. Fingers gently crossed over another as they sat quietly on the hybrid's lap as his attire of assorted dark blues only made the snow-hued hair shine more brilliantly in the warm glow of the room.

"Perchance," Vergil finally breathed out as he closed his eyes in thought, "Though how bizarre… I have grown dull. My bindings suffocate myself and my wits…"

"Help me, Vergil," Nero finally blurt out as he moved from his chair to kneel imploringly at this half-devil that smelled of incense and warm chai tea. The scent tickled his nostrils in familiarity but his mind was not on the scent at the moment, but the brooding half-demon. He bravely reached over and touched the collar, finding the metal heat his fingertips in curiosity before simply ignoring his touch. Swallowing the lump in his throat, fingers cautiously slipped underneath the collar as they scratched the skin underneath it. A pleasant sigh escaped lips that were not Nero's as he watched the neck of porcelain skin tilt to the right, giving his fingers more leeway to the area. "Please Vergil – help me. I need to know everything that might help me find him," Nero continued, making sure that the monster before his fingertips was sedated. From what he could tell from the bindings, the half-devil was forbidden to even touch the collar without being reprimanded by the collar itself.

"I am a servant of Sparda," Vergil finally breathed out, Nero almost swearing that he heard the words become intertwined with a purr. "And you carry a mere touch of Sparda's blood in that arm of yours," he sighed, "So I am obligated in some small essence to help. But who am I to help such a foolish child and to help a walking idiot who probably ended up dead due to his stupidity?" Nero panicked at these words as Vergil turned away from his fingers. "Make a deal with me…make a pact with a devil," Vergil suddenly mused as he turned his body toward Nero, Nero hastily taking a step back before he could be knocked over by the movement. The young adult was not enjoying the way Vergil spoke his last words and already he could see something louche about this snow-haired hybrid.

"I will aid you in this fool's journey…if you give me Yamato. She must be able to touch my fingers without any rejection."

That was the deal and Nero had a cold sense of premonition of future danger and bloodshed. But what of Dante!? What of the demons!? Giving a snarl in defeat he gave a nod, "It's a deal – h-hey! Woah!" He was cut off when he watched Vergil grab the unused knife used to cut steak and slice his left hand****** with ease before wiping the blade clean, handing it silently to Nero. "…I'm not like that, I enjoy my life. I really don't understand your crazy ways…like why your binding has to be in the form of the collar – who knew the Sparda family was into bondage. Or why you feel the need to suddenly slice your hand open."

Well now Vergil looked royally pissed. "No, you halfwit. You agreed to make a pact with me – so we will be doing so with blood. Blood is more secure than empty words," Vergil exclaimed through a clenched jaw. _Poor guy looks tense…_ Nero gave a careless nod before gingerly slicing his own left hand, placing the bloodied knife on the plate as his hand stung at the cut. Vergil's hand gripped his in what may have been a handshake as his skin seemed to be made of frost, making Nero's spilt blood nearly freeze. "Nero, do you swear that the Yamato will be held in my hand with no quarrel, whether it rests in me or another, if I aid you in your search for Dante?"

"Successfully…only if we successfully find Dante," Nero replied firmly. There was no way he was going to get duped by this half-devil.

Vergil gently inclined his head as a small smile graced his lips, "Of course. Only if it is a success…" Then with that said, Nero felt his entire hand become numb and dead for a minute before being released by Vergil. Nero stared at his hand to see only a scar, the cut sealed and the blood now dry. "Finish the rest of your food…we'll converse in the study later," Vergil sighed as he lightly clenched his left hand before leaving the room with silence masking his steps.

* * *

Walls were covered with countless and countless of books that sat on mahogany bookshelves that fit perfectly into the walls. Once again there were two walls that made of clear glass that looked like it has never been touched by a curious or wandering hand. He could now see what lay on the other side of the house: a forest of trees that were losing their leaves due to the weather. He could faintly see the remnants of a neighborhood, but time and possibly demons destroyed all traces of this and Nature covered the crypts with her touch. Wilderness gripped the land and there was a sense that it was now untouched by mankind. Yet what lay outside was such a large difference to what lay inside. The study was warm with the curious lamps that hung from the ceiling, their glass casings a soft tint of gold as tiny flames rested inside. Nero was trying to understand how the flame was kept inside without wax or a wick as he stared upward at it, marveling on how these tiny lamps managed to bring such well focused light to the room.

A smell of herbs and peppermint brushed against his senses when he approached a desk that was covered with assorted papers and books. A small smile touched his lips as he lightly touched a pen and it made him think of Credo. Despite how 'by the book' and orderly Credo appeared, he was possibly the biggest slob when it came to his own quarters. Desk was littered with papers, books, and other strange items Nero never truly understood. He felt as if he was revisiting an old place – a childhood home at the moment. His heart ached in silence at the fact that he lost someone so important in his life, and it only fueled his desire to find Dante. He could not keep on losing those he held dear to his heart. After all…he was human.

A sad smile crept onto his lips at this, not truly understanding why people felt the need to be reborn into an 'angel' or become a pure-blooded demon or even fully human. As much as this arm made him an outcast, it was a part of him. He was given this arm for a reason and it was because of this arm that saved many lives. There was a reason to everything and a will behind it.

"He did a good job trying to piece back together his study… Memory can only do so much," a voice spoke from behind and Nero nearly jumped in surprise at the intrusion. His heart pounded against his chest at the fright, but he willed it to calm down as he listened to Vergil's words. He assumed that 'his' meant Sparda. "He missed a couple of things…but in the end everything has been accounted for…although I'm afraid the books he once kept have been a pain to recollect. I fear that some have been lost forever," Vergil sighed as he moved to one of the shelves, fingers brushing fondly against the spine of one of them. Nero only quirked an eyebrow in curiosity – Vergil seemed awfully fond of the family that bound him. Weird.

Nero stared quietly at Vergil as he turned to face him, eyes meeting him in patience. Nero only stared, finally drinking in this devil's appearance. The hair color was the same as was the structure of the face, which was certain. Yet the eyes spoke of a different story that seemed more alive and vibrant than the cold features let on. Nero supposed he never truly noticed the monarchical way the hybrid contained and held himself as. While he may have stolen Dante's face, he did a good job on differentiating himself from the man. First of all, he looked younger without the unnecessary facial hair Dante felt so eager to wear. Second of all, he wore colors in shades of blue and white in contrast to Dante's black and red. Third of all, Vergil seemed more conservative in clothing while Dante was not afraid to expose skin if he wanted to.

Eyes drifted to the male's appearance, already knowing of the earthy boots, but he noticed the dark navy blue attire that adorned the body. The pants went over the boots instead of being tucked underneath and the vest was lax on the top – no longer fastened all the way to the throat. Nero had a hunch it was due to the collar as a porcelain throat was exposed, an Adam's apple apparent. A loose coat of snow-white – matching the hair itself – completed the outfit. The sleeves were loose as they hung, the coat itself looking exotic not in appearance but in style. It stopped where the knee began and Nero noted that inside the coat was this intricate faded gold pattern. He could not truly see what it looked like from where he stood, but in all, Vergil looked more like a noble from foreign lands than some hazardous creature bound by Sparda. Nero got the impression that Vergil's bark and bite were equally worse if he was in the world of politics. What could this aristocratic-looking half-devil done to offend the Sparda family so greatly?

"How old are you?" Nero finally asked, making the steel-eyed creature frown in silent offense. Maybe Vergil was nothing but an ancient half-devil? Having lived on this planet for hundreds and hundreds of years.

"It is rude to ask someone their age, Nero. I see manners have escaped you or were they never present," Vergil replied and Nero gave a faint grin at this. What opposites they truly were. While Nero carried a hot-headed and stubborn handsome face, and Dante carried a rugged mug of confidence and good-looks, Vergil carried Dante's face with a poised beauty that seemed more poisonous than anything else. Something was off with it – making him also appear feral if he would ever bare his teeth and snarl. A poisonous flower from foreign soils and that made him recall the scent of incense and chai – "If you must know…I am in my twenties," Vergil broke him out of his thoughts with his vague response, causing Nero to blink in awe. Vergil was probably Dante's age then.

Something in Nero's head was screaming at him to make the connection, to already connect the dots. But already the heavy fact that Dante's brother he mentioned in the past was long gone pushed aside the screaming. Instead he gave a thoughtful hum before giving a nod, "I need to know where Dante was last. Do you know where?"

Vergil took a seat in one of the armchairs littered haphazardly around the room along with piles of books and maps. He made sure to avoid the desk as if it would bite him or was sacred. Toying with the end of his coat, he pursed lips before, "A man came to him from what I gather…begging for him to help him get rid of these demons that apparently infested a city named Smyrna."

"Smyrna…where is that? A town?"

"A city…north of here…about a seven day journey if we walk. Five if we find some mode of transportation. Zero if we just come to the agreement and reality of the matter: he is dead," Vergil replied without missing a beat, causing Nero to snarl.

"You are supposed to help me, Vergil!"

"I am doing so…'help' does not mean I have to carry a positive view on the situation."

A knock interrupted them and Nero sighed in relief, arguing with Vergil and just being in his presence in general made the nervous tension in his body only wind up tighter. It was another of the statues, her stone body moving a bit loudly through the room. Nero only stared, gnawing on his lower lip as the statue beckoned him to one of the large glass walls. Moving toward it, he saw nothing but as he squinted he could make out of shapes surrounding where the barrier of the house must stop at. Demons. Even though the massive Duke of Hell was slain, that did not stop the other demons from finding him. They probably smelled the demon's corpse and trail and it did not help that the Hell Gate was so close to the house. "We're safe, right?"

"For now…by tomorrow afternoon the defenses will fall. Someone placed much thought into this…demons are never this coordinated by themselves. Planning is visible – thus something greater will come through the Hell Gate by tomorrow," Vergil predicted calmly. Nero groaned and resisted the urge to punch the glass wall by instead turning around and pacing furiously. He was hoping that this place would be his haven – a safe house. Yet it seemed not and he felt guilty at the fact that all of Dante's hard work would be destroyed if he stayed longer. He needed to move…and hope this coordinated movement from the demons would follow after him.

Coordinated… "When I was fighting Marbas…he mentioned Lucifer, that Lucifer would come to finish off the job," Nero spoke thoughtfully, "Does the name ring a bell?"

The hybrid snarled in his chair, lips curled back to reveal perfect rows of teeth barred in displeasure. "I know of him," he hissed through clenched teeth and Nero felt another wave of nausea hit him. If Vergil found him distasteful than that _must_ mean something terrible was going to occur. He tried to speak more but he gave out a choked sound before growling darkly, "I cannot speak of him…so much of me has been bound and stifled. Do not say he touches the earth once more." But there were the Hell Gates spouting about like weeds. Who was to say that he was not already walking about? Plus what was so bad about Lucifer? If he was just another demon then he could easily just kick its ass. Even Sanctus got his ass whooped and he was in a freakin' statue that could probably shoot lasers out of its eyes with the Force Edge (Sparda's fated sword).

So Nero repeated his thoughts to Vergil and he watched a knowing smirk dance on his lips as he shook his head in disbelief. "Lucifer is not a demon. What on earth have they been teaching you back in your little island? Ignorance may be bliss…but those who are ignorant are always the first to perish. Lucifer is one of the F – F…that…f…f…no," Vergil began smoothly before being cut off as if the collar was choking his vocal chords, causing the male to hiss and stand up from his seat. Fingers went up to tug back on the collar but it looked as if it stung his hands for he quickly drew them back, fists clenched as if he was burned. "I am unable to speak of it…but he is not a demon," Vergil sighed as he forced his body to relax, the collar slowly easing into a relaxed state as well.

Nero only turned back to the window, watching as the sky continued to darken. There had to be a way to leave this house without going through the front or back door. He needed to lead the demons elsewhere…plus he had to get to this city. Smyrna. Sighing, he looked through one of the numerous of maps lying about. Finding one that bore Swallowtail's Beak on the map, he scanned the map for this Smyrna. Vergil was right; it did look like a seven days journey. "Is there another way out of this house?"

Vergil only stared, currently not in the mood to converse whatsoever. His mind was working in smoothed silence as if he was playing a chess game and was contemplating his next move. When Nero turned to face him in expectance, he gave a quiet nod. "There…is a well in the garden. Climb down and you will have to move through tunnels until you reach an underground river. There a boat should be waiting…it will lead us far north from the house – connected to the Pagos Hills," Vergil spoke as Nero traced his finger to Pagos Hills. It placed them on the right track if they took this way out. "Problem is…the river is not a gentle one…the boat is probably decaying from being left there for years on end… Disaster meets those who dare try it," Vergil added calmly, as if he was stating the weather. Nero sputtered in outrage at how indifferent Vergil was to this all. Did he not even care!?

Nero already knew the answer to the question and he heaved out a heavy sigh in defeat. "We shall go then tomorrow morning…" Nero replied firmly as he turned back to the map. It was such a vague map…not even labeling the roads whatsoever. This map was becoming useless and he began to search for a more detailed one. "So do you know what this Lucifer is like?" Nero asked as he looked about, trying to break the awkward silence Vergil seemed too keen on creating at every possible minute. Vergil gave a noncommittal shrug as he moved toward the glass walls, Nero given the impression that Vergil could see everything outside as if it was day. The man was becoming more of a feline in his eyes through every passing moment.

"Ambitious…arrogant…selfish…manipulator…" Vergil breathed out gently, his breath lightly fogging up the area it touched on the window. A small smirk graced his lips as he watched it fade into the background, eyes not looking through the wall but at the reflection on it. Nero paused and stared curiously at the hybrid.

And Nero wondered if Vergil was answering his question or speaking of himself.

* * *

_(***** The collar = mother's amulet that is constantly seen in DMC 3. Appearances have changed for now…but it is the same thing.)  
(****** Vergil honestly has a thing for left hands. In DMC 3 he is seriously slicing up Dante's left hand twice and then his own. Sheesh.)_

Love it? Hate it? Tell me in a review!  
Thank you again to all of my readers and esp. to my reviewers.  
Your support means much to me.


	4. hook, line and sinker

**summary: **_// _Post DMC 4 // _Nero liked the idea of playing hero and saving Dante's ass, but when did playing 'hero' suddenly mean asking help from a monstrous secret Dante has been hiding from Nero since day one? All things come with a price and Nero has a bad feeling that Vergil is going to request for more than just Yamato…_

**disclaimer: **I do not own Devil May Cry, Nero, Dante, Vergil, etc. I wish...

**A/N: Okay!!! :) So this chapter is a bit longer...because I will be gone for a couple of days on vacation! So I hope this chapter will suffice for you all! It is very...action-packed! Don't forget to review when you're done!**

**feed me a box of words**  
**chapter four:** hook, line and sinker  
**written by:** of wolves and dogs

_**"**This change he won't contain  
Slip away to clear your mind  
When asked what made it show**?  
**The truth he gives in to most  
So lay down**.  
**The threat is real  
When his sight goes red again**."**_

- Red by Chevelle

* * *

Nero found himself back in the study the morning after, his eyes gazing in awe at the scenery around him. It was beautiful last night but now with the sun in the sky, the world looked like the beginning of a winter wonderland. The house was truly situated in a beautiful area and he hoped that after this journey he could spend more time at this house. As this sense of peace gripped him, it was ruined when someone stepped on his foot quite savagely. "OW! What was that for –"

"We do not have time to reminisce and sightsee," Vergil replied, lifting his boot from Nero's right foot before strolling off, hands folded perfectly behind his back. Nero hissed as he bent over to rub his abused foot that was unfortunately not in the safe confines of his shoes. _Damn bastard!_ "The servants have prepared your pack – filling it with much needed items and probably items useless as themselves." Nero only rolled his eyes, still focused on his abused foot. "So then, I assume that you are going to Smyrna?" he drawled as his pace slowed down until he came to a stop, and Nero couldn't help but get the feeling that Vergil doubted Nero had the balls to do anything productive whatsoever. Already he could detect a hint of smugness in Vergil's voice as the male tilted his head gently to the right, eyes regarding Nero with laughing amusement – as if he was nothing but a joke.

"Yes," Nero replied back carefully, eyes narrowing in challenge.

"Do you know how to get there?" Vergil asked. Nero knew the hybrid was quite aware that the maps he found were useless or not even of this area. The one he found was vague and faded, and it was useless in all. Nero remained silent as Vergil made a clicking noise with his tongue, all aware of Nero's inadequate map. Hence the smugness the hybrid was expressing. "Do you have…ah…a map?" he continued and Nero could feel himself bristle in annoyance at this. He clenched his fists, resisting the urge to slam his Devil Bringer into that handsome face that read arrogance.

"Do you have anything positive to say?" Nero snapped as he took a step forward, feeling his nonexistent nails on his left hand digging into his palm. "Anything that might help?"

Vergil gave a yawn, those steel-blue eyes seeming to be the very essence of scorn. "Well of course, I know the way. I might as well accompany you," Vergil mused, making Nero blink in shock. In all actuality, he thought Vergil was going to give him a couple of stuff to help him and assure Nero the journey was a success. He really didn't expect Vergil to accompany him and actually saw the male side-stepping the whole journey deal.

"Come with me?" Nero replied in surprise as he bounded toward Vergil that flinched in disgust, body repelled by Nero's eager enthusiasm. Vergil looked as if he was going to vomit when Nero gave a whoop in joy as he pulled the hybrid into a hasty hug.

"Yes, yes," Vergil breathed out in annoyance as he ducked his head out of Nero's arms and pushed him away from him. Straightening himself up and brushing imaginary dirt off of him, he gave a quiet shake of the head, "Someone has to make sure the deal is seen through…and I honestly have no interest in staying in this house any longer. Of course I will accompany you only if you give me permission…" Eyes of deep intelligence and wit turned to Nero, and the youth could see the demonic essence behind those eyes shine with bright dexterity and anticipation. It was as if two pairs of eyes stared at him and he could feel some invisible pressure or lock placed in his hands. He had the key…now he had the choice to unlock the lock. Yet he wasn't quite sure why such a thing felt like this?

"Of course! Vergil, I want you to come and help me find Dante! You don't even need to ask! But I still would like a map."

"Of course…pen and paper, please," Vergil spoke, now with an official tinge in his voice as he moved toward the desk. Fingers carefully pushed aside sheets of paper on the desk as he took a seat. Given a thick piece of paper, he flipped it so it was on its smooth side as he grabbed the pen handed to him. Giving a thoughtful look at the paper, he began to sketch a map. Nero first stared at him with disbelief that Vergil could sketch a map from memory alone. But as he watched him sketch out towns and cities, roads and paths, forests and hills, lakes and rivers he felt himself gape as he looked over Vergil's shoulder. The older male made small illustrations for the areas and he would label each with a spidery yet neat handwriting. Leaning back to admire his handiwork, he placed the pen onto the desk as Nero scanned it in amazement. Waiting for a few moments to make sure Vergil was done, he carefully grabbed the map. How was he capable of doing such a thing!?

"You can look at it later…we should leave now while the sun is still in the sky," Vergil broke through Nero's gazing as he rose from his seat with much care and grace.

"Right. Thanks Vergil."

Vergil gave a mocking bow as a charming smile danced on his lips, making Nero feel as if he was looking at Dante himself. It made all oxygen in his body leave him, his body standing rigid and in shock at the smile. "Always a pleasure to serve." Then he was gone and Nero could only blink as he stared at the space that Vergil once occupied. Shaking his head and snapping out of this mild paralysis, he made his way after Vergil. It was time to save Dante's pathetic ass.

When Nero came downstairs, he was escorted out into the garden where Vergil awaited. He looked more like a snow angel than a snow devil – or at least what his collar seemed to be protecting those of Sparda blood from. Adjusting the pack on his shoulder he reminded himself to keep himself on guard with this one. He may look harmless – actually, that was another problem. Vergil didn't look harmless; he truly did look like the type that could easily snap your neck with just the flick of a finger. _It's always the silent types…and here I have some bound half-demon who can probably snap me in half like a twig. _Vergil made a gesture with his hand and Nero turned toward the direction of the hand and found the well. Dying leaves and branches were littered about it as his feet crunched through the frosty floor. "Shall I go first? Or do you wish to go in first?" Vergil inquired as Nero moved forward to peer down. There was a ladder that led downward and he wondered when was the last time someone climbed down this empty well.

"I'll go first," Nero replied without any hesitation as he gave one last look at the house before smoothly slipping into the well. Making sure the pack was secured on his back, he noted wryly that his sword would have to be pulled out carefully to not cut the pack or he would have to drop the pack then draw his sword. Sighing to himself, he made his way down the ladder, happy the servants thought of giving him gloves. Although he only really needed one, it's not like his Devil Bringer could feel the cold. Focusing on each step, he watched as it began to grow darker save for the area around his Devil Bringer. Vergil did a good job at making his Devil Bringer a candle and when he looked up, he nearly lost his grip.

There was Vergil's shadow displayed on the wall of the well, as it grinned and danced across the wall in a frenzied dance. Nero shuddered as the shadow morphed into something more bulky, shadow splitting to reveal a toothy grin.

_What the fuck is wrong with this guy's shadow!?_

It was after five minutes of climbing down the ladder did they reach the bottom of the well. Nero rummaged about his pack and pulled a candle one of the servants packed. Lighting it with a match, he handed it to Vergil who silently led the way. The sound of running water could already reach their ears as they moved into a maze of tunnels carved into the foundation of the house and further on. When they neared the shore where the boat should reside, a faint light seemed to illuminate the tunnels. Vergil didn't explain but Nero didn't mind, he was too busy being enthralled by the passing lights that ran underneath the stone, like flirting fireflies. Putting out the candle and handing it back to Nero, Vergil approached the wooden boat that bore two oars.

Nero huffed in displeasure, not even believing that they have to go in a boat without a motor. Thing looked as if it was going to collapse. Yet the more he looked at it, the more he found beautiful craftsmanship on the boat. Dancing stars, moons and suns danced on its side and he wished Kyrie could see this. She would love it. Slipping into the boat, he shrugged the pack off as Vergil pushed the boat away from the shore, jumping in before the current could take the boat fully. Nero found that the only reason he would need the oar is to steer and his past frustration with Vergil's sarcastic and negative behavior faded as he enjoyed the peace this brought.

Already hours were beginning to feel like minutes as they moved through the winding path.

"Lean more on your starboard side," Vergil cut through as his eyes gazed coolly at everything around him. "Do you recall the map?" Nero nodded at this, making a gesture to take it out but Vergil shook his head, "Keep it where it is now, I do not want it to get wet. When the current gets stronger, the path will split into two. We need to take the left path…you will know when it comes."

Nero nodded once more. He remembered that Vergil said that the underground river was violent and he mentally prepared himself for this. Already the water was swift and he began to imagine what this split path would look like. Would he have to stick the oar fully into the water to turn the boat in the right direction? Nero mused this over for a few minutes as he made sure the craft was in the middle of the river and not near the tunnel's sides. When the current began to slowly pick up did Nero shoot a nervous glance at Vergil. The hybrid gave a nod in affirmation and Nero licked his dry lips nervously. The water was roaring far off and Nero wondered if a waterfall was near.

The boat lunged a bit and he fought with the current with the oar, unaware of the presence behind him now. When he looked up, he found Vergil right behind him, a hand helping him keep the oar steady to turn the boat. "The split path," Vergil shouted over the roar of the water as he pointed his head in the direction. Nero turned and saw it coming and also noted how terribly small the tunnel was for that path. How was he supposed to turn into it? Glancing frequently at the tunnel, he felt the boat veer off track and continue to fall with the stronger current. Just as he was about to curse the boat, the boat finally began to turn to the left. When he looked to see why, he found Vergil with the other oar, aiding Nero in turning the boat and beating off the current.

Giving a determined nod, he watched the boat slowly make its way toward the right area as it was buffeted by the furious river. Before Nero could grin as they were nearly there, the sound of something cracking filled his ear. The oar suddenly became light in his hand and as he turned to investiage he found he was holding the top end of the oar. The other half was snapped off and it seemed it kicked the oar in Vergil's hand out. Nero blinked dumbly at the left tunnel and how it was soon out of their sight as the boat was tossed haphazardly by the river.

"Vergil, where does this take us?" Nero shouted as the older male busied himself running a tongue over an incisor and shook his head.

"A waterfall…but on the bottom of the waterfall are jagged rocks – some call it the 'Devil's Mouth'," came the reply and Nero felt color begin to drain out of his face.

"What the hell do we do now?" Nero asked, voice now mixed between panic and pure frustration. _This WOULD happen to me. Just my fucking luck. _Vergil only stared in silence at what laid ahead and Nero slapped his hand onto his forehead in disbelief. _Great. Mr. Sarcastic is now playing the 'I'm going to become a silent ice block' game._ Turning to look ahead, he found that light was reaching the tunnel as did the roar of the coming waterfall rise in volume. They were nearing the end of the tunnel and Nero began to shield his eyes as the dull light burned his retinas. "Vergil…you better think of something fuckin' fast! Or we are going to be skewered on those damn rocks!"

Vergil turned his gaze to Nero before uttering words that Vergil spoke during dinner last night, "Loosen my collar." Nero only stared and began to shake his head in disagreement as Vergil spoke once more, "_Trust_ _me_. Loosen my collar or become 'skewered'." Nero swallowed and reached over, fumbling with the collar and praying that Sparda and Dante would forgive him for doing this.

To Nero's surprise, that for such a powerful binding on the collar, it loosened easily and left Vergil's neck as if he just took off a collar of a dog and nothing more. Holding it in his hand, he stared at Vergil who seemed to do nothing at first. Then Nero noticed a crack forming on the hybrid's upper left cheekbone, as if he was made of clay and now it was shattering. More cracks formed as Vergil moved, parts of it flaking away and when Vergil turned to him again, the upper left cheekbone and eye were gone. Instead what was underneath once porcelain skin was dark blue flesh and a piercing eye that seemed to stick invisible swords into his chest. The eye was completely blue and in the middle laid a catlike pupil of eggshell white. What was once Vergil seemed to hesitate toward showing aggression on Nero or helping. It finally leaped toward the bow of the boat with the finesse of a feline, before turning around so his back was facing the approaching waterfall. The boat gave a shudder and jolt as it was suddenly being forced to stop, Nero grabbing his pack and clutching it to his chest as his Devil Bringer clung onto the boat.

A bulky shape was pushing the boat into a brake and Nero could not truly see the image Vergil now wore due to the bad lighting. But he could taste the power that crackled around it and it made him feel as if he tasted copper or blood, a metallic tang gripping his taste buds. The minute Nero looked away from Vergil; he found the mouth of the tunnel and the beginning of the waterfall. Despite the sudden improvement, they were still heading toward destruction. "Vergil!" Nero called out and he watched as the demon was flung off the boat as it tipped over due to the waterfall.

Falling. Nero watched the craggy rocks below beckon to him as he continued to cling onto the boat. Something grabbed him by the arm and flung him away from the rocks, a grunt leaving lips that were not Nero's. Hitting solid ground, his Devil Bringer released the boat as it crashed not too far away from him. It took his brain a while for it to comprehend he was safe as he slowly stood too his feet, dropping the pack in his grip but keeping a hold on the collar in his hand. His back ached and he lightly arched his body, bones popping in relief as he rubbed his tensed muscles into relaxation.

Nero stared in broken silence, body panting for oxygen as his eyes stared at the destroyed boat that was scattered about like a broken toy. It was such a beautiful vessel and he felt a tinge of remorse as he stared at its destroyed image. He hoped Dante would forgive him for destroying the relic – it seemed all he was doing so far was destroying more and more things Dante worked hard to preserve. Who knew if Sparda's house was now vacant of demons that, hopefully, left to follow after him? For all Nero knew, they might still be lingering and breaking through the barriers placed up. "I'm sorry…I'll make sure to fix you when this is all over with," Nero promised quietly to the vessel, his conscience feeling a tad better at this promise.

"Sentimental, Nero?" said a voice from somewhere in front of Nero. The voice managed to sound like Vergil but yet it was so foreign. The voice crackled and was deeper, as if all sound came from the hollow of the chest and not the throat. Static almost seemed to surround the voice with a feral growl lacing every word and dotting every 'i'.

"Vergil? Where are you?"

Silence met his words as he stared worriedly in the dark, his Devil Bringer still holding onto the strange collar. Whatever traces that it was once metal were gone and instead the band was silk and increased in length as if it was a necklace. The amulet in the middle was no longer miniature in size but instead expanded and heavy in his hand, as if it was magnetically attracted to the ground itself. However his mind was not on the curious amulet or how metal can turn into silk. Instead he was merely focused on where on earth did Vergil run off to? Did he leave the minute this was done with due to this newfound taste of freedom right now? Was he still present? Waiting for him?

"I am here," replied a voice to his question that made Nero spin around when he felt hot breath on his neck. Eyes turned to see only darkness and the shapes of the trees surrounding him. Nothing was visible in this growing darkness and he lightly lifted his Devil Bringer that seemed almost in turmoil itself. It would glow and then flicker and he could feel Yamato inside his arm threaten to emerge. He kept his hand on his palm, refusing to let the sword that seemed to only want to be tugged away from him. Something told him that Yamato had no interest in aiding him at the moment and that frightened him to no end. Yamato was the ace in his sleeve and right now his ace was trying to leave him. So clenching his fist, he carefully pulled out Blue Rose from her holster with his left hand.

Nostrils flared to life when his nose was bombarded with the heavy scent of star anise and cloves, as a whoosh of air slapped him in the face. Wincing, when he opened his eyes he found the hybrid before him. Horns curled and eyes blazing a fierce and sickly robin blue with a vertical pupil made of gentle snow-white were the first two features that Nero noticed. A sense of déjà vu gripped him as he watched the demon move closer with gradual ease. He has seen this shape before and when the demon's face split in two when a mouth parted, Nero felt his heart sink into the pit of his stomach. This demon looked just like the avatar that would loom over him whenever he Devil Triggered. _How did he assume that shape, though, if he has never seen me Devil Trigger before? How the hell is that possible!? _Was he like the Doppelganger? Capable of mimicking others in a heartbeat? Nero was terribly confused as his mind raced a mile a second, all plans and strategies fading from his head.

Nero jumped when the boat caught on fire the minute the demon walked past it, flames of sapphire and white licking the boat savagely. Nero was given the impression of a funeral pyre and he had a sickening feeling he was going to be next. "Free…save for blood price," it crackled, voice only making Nero's body firmly stay rooted in place instead of running off screaming and cursing. Whatever trace of Vergil's voice was vanishing as it was lost in the demonic essence that was manipulating and twisting the vocal chords. This blood price…he had a hint that he would be the one to pay it. Dammit. _Dante never fuckin' tells me anything. Never tells me that he got some wild animal caged up! Fuck._

Giving a frustrated hiss he raised the Blue Rose and fired off a round into the approaching demon. The bullets almost seemed to have gone through the demon as if he was just a holographic image and nothing more. Vergil - if it was even Vergil anymore – laughed at this, the laughter sounding like a hyena barking madly at the moon as the sound slid lazily into existence. The way the demon moved made it appear as if it was already confident in its ability that Nero will be nothing but like the boat: easily destroyable. Nero drew Red Queen out as he clumsily stuck Blue Rose back in her holster, taking a tentative step back, struggling not to show fear. His mind raced with what he should do and he wondered if his Devil Bringer would be able to do the job. But if he tried to do anything with his Devil Bringer he was certain Yamato would leave his arm for good. It continued to beat the insides of his arm, numbing his Devil Bringer as if it was being called out to its true master. Nero licked his dry lips as his mind was only running in circles and nothing but circles.

"Keep on thinking, Nero. A pity your head is incapable of functioning properly," it laughed once more, the cacophony of sounds injuring Nero's ears. Nero hated this…hated how he couldn't even think of something snarky to say in response the entire time. He usually had something clever to shoot back – even in the face of death itself. Yet right now nothing was coming, his tongue felt like sandpaper and his brain seemed to be drained.

"Y-You saved it from not working…" Nero managed to reply, hoping to buy some time for some sort of plan. Or maybe rescue…or maybe for someone to wake him up. He was probably still in Fortuna, asleep on the armchair in the library and Dante was going to wake him up soon.

"Sentiment…so trivial a thing…a mere act of goodwill," it mused out before lifting a clawed hand and before Nero could move out of the way, it swiped at him. Nero staggered back, barely dodging the sudden attack as the front of his jacket took the hit. His body teetered forward dangerously at this and he was earned with the heel of a palm striking him roughly in the nose. Nero hastily rose up Red Queen to parry the next attack, sparks flying in the air when demonic flesh met the sword. It had no effect on the demon save for only jarring Nero's arm, causing needles of pain to run up his arm like a chain-reaction. "An act – a memory only to be purged," it finally finished as Nero felt his nose bleed, the liquid spilling from his nose and into his lips.

Nero tried to focus on the pain, trying to use it to harbor him to a rational plan. A strategy. Something! He now knew the Red Queen could go up against this demon, but now he needed to think of what he could do to actually defeat it. "Ah…memories…" it went on as the demon slowly circled around him like a cat toying with its meal, jaws parted to reveal fearsome teeth that should belong on sharks themselves. Nero's eyes flickered to the left and saw that he was being pushed toward the burning boat and he wondered if he could use this to his advantage. _WHAT ADVANTAGE!? Burn myself before he can kill me!? _

"Years of _servitude_…of humiliation. A servant of Sparda – oh, the irony is so thick that the humor is gone. Chained by betrayal…for the sake of 'safety'. How easy it is to abuse the word when blood faces blood. …I am the heir – I deserve what has been left, not this human-loving idiot. Humans are nothing but fodder… There…will be payment – not quick, not at all." Nero was not prepared for the demon to vanish from the air and appear before him, and he felt him stagger backward and fall. His eyes widened as he saw he was nearly on the fire itself. Hastily pulling himself and jumping to the side, he was caught mid-leap by a strong arm. Nails dug into his side and a cry in pain escaped him when they punctured skin and continued to dig through. Nero was pulled close, his sword-arm pinned to his side, as the grip on him only tightened even more until he could feel his ribs scream in protest. A hand grabbed a fistful of his hair and yanked back, forcing him to stare up at the grinning demon. Those luminescent eyes regarded him with wild hunger as those vertical pupils of white expanded before becoming a thin line once more. All the knowledge of destroying and killing demons faded from his mind as he stared helplessly at the demon. Instead he decided to struggle against the hold he was under, hands clenching tightly: the left hand onto his sword and his right onto the necklace.

_Wait! The necklace…the collar! _

He wasn't sure what to do with it, but it was growing warm under his hold as he resisted the urge to look down at it. He didn't want to draw Vergil's attention to his hand. "I think…I shall pluck your eyes out first," the demon purred out in a loving croon as it dipped its head closer to his face. Hot breath seemed to burn with the fire of falling stars, scorching his face with instant sunburn. It tilted its head to the left like a feline regarding its meal in curiosity before finishing the awful deed. Mouth parted wider, lower jaw dislocating out as teeth gleamed in the dying flames beside them.

Nero then understood what he had to do. Closing his eyes, he raised his right arm and flipped the necklace onto the demon's neck. He hoped it went over and when the hot breath only continued to burn his cheek, he thought he missed. But before he could even wallow in despair at this failed plan, the demon lurched away, dropping Nero like a human hand flinching from the heat of touching a hot stove. Opening his eyes, eyes watering from the pain that seared his cheek and face, he watched the demon snarl and fight against the necklace that slid over its head and onto its neck. The silk was shrinking as was the amulet itself that was glowing a heavy blood-red, ignoring the struggling hands that tried to stop it. No matter how it tried to slip fingers underneath the band, fingers had to flinch away as if it was being burned. Nero only watched as the silk band began to turn into metal before his eyes. Even the demonic flesh that held the body was fading, becoming a pure slate-white that only made the demon howl in rage.

It seemed to give up, eyes turning to Nero who couldn't even find the strength to crawl away. The demon moved forward with unbalanced strides, as if a heavy weight was being tossed onto its shoulder, "Scum! I will slit your throat if it is the last thing I ever do on this godforsaken planet – " A choking sound left it as the collar contracted once more, body sinking to its knees as he gave a ragged snarl in distress before being silenced. A flash of white filled the area as if the Big Bang just occurred, and when Nero opened his watering eyes he found a tired Vergil on his knees. The collar was how it was before: metal and bearing a tiny blood-red amulet in the middle. Nero stared at him, unable to do anything more or even stop the flow of blood from his nose, which now covered half of his face and glued his mouth shut with dried blood.

Nero sat in silence, darkness returning to the scene as the boat sputtered out its last will to leave as did the flames. He was thankful for the darkness, not wishing to see the now humanized Vergil or anything whatsoever. Somehow it felt safer to be cloaked in the darkness with his fears and hurt, his brain completely numb at the moment. This trip was already turning out to not be what he imagined and he felt as if someone drained all energy and enthusiasm out of him. Empty. Dispirited. What he would do to just curl up somewhere safe and forget about this all.

Time seemed to pass so slowly while before it seemed like a crazed blur, but it passed regardless. For a little later, something cold touched his hand and he realized it was Vergil's fingers. "Your nose is still bleeding," said a familiar, didactic voice. "Light a candle, pinch your nose, and get some blankets out for us to sleep. It's getting cold."

"Welcome back, Vergil," whispered Nero.

* * *

Nero woke up to feel his nose ache, as if every support system inside the appendage was nothing but shattered and gone. When he went to sleep the night before he was silently thankful that Vergil made himself scarce at the campsite. Nero didn't complain and he felt more comfortable knowing he could drift into slumber without a monster looming over him. At least he could remain blissfully ignorant as he slept, but instead he found himself falling into a troubled slumber. Dreams became nightmares and that was how he woke up just now: from a nightmare. Eyelids moved upward to reveal sleepy blue orbs that began to gently blink away the sleep that continued to cling on to him. As eyes focused, he stared at the ethereal face of Vergil himself. A scream was bubbling up in his throat and he had to slam his jaws together and bite his tongue to keep himself quiet. Nero had a hunch Vergil was a light sleeper and if he made even the softest of sounds that monster would rip his throat out. _Remember? He said he'll slit your throat…not rip. _Nero howled mentally in offense at his conscience for siding with the devil himself.

Nero stared in silence at the sleeping hybrid that looked as harmless as a newborn kitten, lips partially opened as the sound of soft breathing could be heard. A cold shiver ran down his spine; kitten was he not, but something terrible that breathed of destruction and calamity. This rescue party was becoming a terrible idea in his head now. Vergil suddenly became a double-edged sword in this journey. Vergil seemed to be well-versed in everything around him and he needed that infinite source of knowledge. However the collar did a good job at keeping Nero ignorant. That made Nero wish desperately for Kyrie, his encyclopedia that would always give him a background information on things he did not understand or know of. Fortuna taught him nothing save for the fact Sparda saved mankind. It came as a complete surprise when he found out Dante was a Son of Sparda. It came as even a greater surprise when he found out that his Devil Bringer was in relation with Sparda himself. That is why he needed Vergil because he knew nothing of this Lucifer save for the fact he must have some powerful hold on the Demon Realm if he was referred as "Lord". But was it worth it? The guy nearly tried to kill him only hours ago…

_Why the hell do I even have to worry about Lucifer anyways? I need to find Dante. Dante is my top priority. _

So then here came the big question: to keep or to leave Vergil. The collar seemed to make sure Vergil could do no harm to him, but at the same time it kept his mouth shut when it came to coughing up useful information. So he was useless…but he did know where to go. Plus he seemed to have done some good by getting rid of Marbas back at the house. _Also made that deal with him…for the sword. But if he has the collar on, he cannot hurt me or Dante. _Something felt off and in the gut of his very being, he felt like he was already walking on road paved from an earlier mistake.

"_Scum! I will slit your throat if it is the last thing I ever do on this godforsaken planet – "_

The words rang through his head like an ominous predication, a fact that such an act will be accomplished in the end. Turning his focus on the sleeping hybrid, he could only be puzzled. How did such a monstrous being live in such a perfected body? Even now, as the half-devil slept, he looked like a sleeping angel as his head rested on the folded snow-hued coat. Porcelain skin almost glowed as the first rays of the sun began to touch the earth, the skin given a warm creamy taste of color. The older male was honestly handsome but now knowing of the creature that grinned underneath a stoic façade made him wince in pain. So Nero stared, waiting for something terrible to happen, to watch those vibrant blue eyes with a pure-white pupil flash to life before him… Nothing of the sort happened and all that he could see was the rise and fall of Vergil's chest as he breathed in and out softly. Watching the repetitive motions, he could feel his eyelids become heavy as the lullaby of the male's breathing soothed him back into sleep.

_Crack! _

Eyes flared open in alert as he stared at empty space, his body easing into relaxation as he realized the sound probably came from a bird of the sort. He felt incredibly warm and when he turned to stretch, he found a creamy pearl-hued coat draped over his body. For such a coat that he once saw was thin, it did a wonderful job in keeping the cold away from him. Fingers gingerly touched the material, finding it soft to the touch before lightly turning one of the sides over. Eyes gazed in amazement at the golden pattern underneath that spoke of such detailed and hard work. But what made him give a small smile was the fact that it was Vergil who did this deed of compassion. _Or maybe he feels guilty that he nearly slit your throat last night, _a voice chided at him in his head and his smile instantly turned into a frown. He could not forget that a terrible beast tried to kill him. For the sake of curiosity, he pressed his nose into the material and was given the impression he entered a church… Incense attacked his nostrils as cinnamon and clover trickled in as did other scents that made him feel light-headed and intoxicated.

The scent…it matched Yamato.

Staring in thought at the coat, he battled with the inner workings of his mind. Contradictions stood up against each other as facts seeped in. "I'll confront him...ask him…" he spoke to himself as he remained lying down with the coat over him. He didn't wish to leave the comfort that it was giving him, but after heckling himself he managed to push himself up. Folding the coat and placing it on top of the pack, he made his way toward the river. About to wash his face, his fingers touched his nose and he realized with disdain that it was not set properly. Groaning in disbelief, he sat on his backside as he lightly prodded the bridge of his nose. "This is going to hurt like a bitch," he sighed as he prepared himself. "Hurt like a bitch, hurt like a bitch, hurt like a bitch – ," he began to chant as he closed his eyes and set the nose properly, "FUCK! Oh…yup…hurt like a bitch." Without any thought, he crawled closer to the edge of the river before sticking his face in it. The cold water instantly numbed his face and that was when he realized that his cheek was badly sunburn by Vergil last night.

A cruel shudder ran through his body as he stared dully at the river, soppy bangs clinging to his forehead as cold droplets ran down his face. He couldn't say he was traumatized of the event from last night, but he was still downright frightened to the point where his heart was already tattooing wildly against his chest. He could have died last night. What if the necklace – or whatever it really is – was not in his hand? What if it was lost in the river? Or on the ground far away? He would have been tortured mercilessly in the hands of the released monster, dying a slow death. Now he knew that he should just get a grip on himself. It's not like he has never been in a situation where death was bound to come. _But I had the Yamato…_ That was right. But last night the Yamato did not want to cooperate or listen to him, as if it was its very own being – a segmented soul. _I could have died…and what would happen to Kyrie? To Dante? _

Running a shaky hand through his soppy bangs, he gave an equally shaky exhale of air as he stood up and made his way to his pack. Rummaging about he found a small tube of aloe vera gel, and he gratefully began to place the soothing gel on his strange sunburn on his cheek. _Focus on saving Dante's ass. Focus on just that. Once Dante is back…he can deal with Vergil. No longer my problem. _Sounded like a good plan as he placed the tube back before searching for something to eat, his stomach grumbling in praise at Nero's actions.

_Wonder where Vergil is…_ He still had not returned to camp and Nero wondered if Vergil was off hunting bears or something for breakfast. He wouldn't put it past Vergil – seeing his true image last night – to wrestle bears or something of the sort. The image playing in his head made him snigger as he began to note dryly that the statues packed healthy food. _What I would do for a hamburger…with fries… Maybe Vergil can find some fast-food joint after he's done taking care of Smokey the Bear. _

On cue, Vergil emerged onto the campgrounds with casual strides as an eyebrow was arched in his direction. "Looking for me?" he asked innocently and Nero narrowed his eyes in suspicion as Vergil approached him. The two stared at each other for a brief moment, none of them willing to talk of last night and that made Nero sigh in relief as he turned away. He rather just forget. Maybe now was a good time to start drinking…rumor was that if you drink a lot you can forget even more. Sounded like a nice little bargain. _Oh! Bargain! Yamato!_ That's right; he needed to ask what on earth was Vergil's relation to Dante and Yamato.

"We need to talk," Nero spoke, a serious look gripping his face as he looked up at the expressionless face of Vergil's. Then a small, thin-lipped smile brushed against the lips as he turned his head upward, eyes now toward the sky. Nero's frown deepened, getting the impression Vergil was mocking and laughing at his authority.

Vergil turned his gaze back down toward Nero and gave a gentle shrug of the shoulders, bare arms crossing over his chest in boredom. "It can wait, there is something more…pressing at hand," Vergil drawled out as he tilted his head to the side, eyes closed in dark mirth as a cruel smirk danced on his lips. It was Nero's turn to quirk an eyebrow as he gave a confused look. Vergil looked like he just committed a sin and the consequences that befell of it were hot on his trail and about to reprimanded the both of them now. "Ah…I found something interesting," he finished as his eyes opened slowly, and Nero felt his insides collapse into his stomach. He was right. Vergil must have done something to catch them both into some sort of trouble. _WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH HIM!? _

"Oh?" Nero replied back, restraining himself from screaming the word out and tossing the Blue Rose at his now indifferent face. Emotions seem to never spend more than one minute on his face before sinking into a mask of stoic indifference.

"Look up."

Nero did so and at first he saw nothing but the sky itself that was turning a lighter shade of blue as the sun continued its slow accent. Then a dark mass cut through his line of vision. Nero felt his jaw drop as he watched a large demon – approximately the size of two cargo planes – flap its massive wings slowly. It was an ugly grayish tint and he caught sights of green on the top when it made a lazy turn. It seemed it didn't notice them but it knew that they were in the general area and was now circling around it. "Holy fuck….GODZILLA BIRD!" Nero exclaimed after a moment, waving his hands frantically in the air in utter disbelief, his hunger and his need to question Vergil fading away from his mind.

"Yes…it followed me," Vergil mused as he stared up at the creature, "Doesn't look friendly either…"

Oh if only Nero could wring that hybrid's neck and kick the living shit out of him. Leave it to the monster to bring other demons with it. Who the hell was Vergil _really_ helping!? Feeling a headache form, he rubbed his temples as he cursed violently under his breath. "So…a Hell Gate is nearby, huh?" Nero bit out, words struggling to leave his mouth through the grinding teeth. "Fine…we'll kick its ass. Can you fight?" Nero huffed before turning to Vergil, seeing the male was now more interested in retrieving his coat and scanning at it with a critical eye. _Probably wondering if there is dirt on it! Fucking bastard! _

"I am not an attack dog. I am a _house pet_," Vergil began with innocence and sarcasm running rampant through his words; "I am nothing but a meek and docile thing." Nero gave a hard stare at Vergil that told the male that he did not appreciate his dry and caustic humor whatsoever.

"Fine. Use Red Queen," Nero replied as he grabbed it from where it was resting at by the pack. The Yamato seemed to be under control at the moment as he flexed his Devil Bringer. Handing it to Vergil, he watched the male gingerly grab it and examine the bulky blade with silent disdain. When his eyes turned to the handlebar that looked as if it should be on a motorcycle, the expression became deadpanned as if this reminded him of someone with the same distasteful sense of…fashion. Nero ignored Vergil and instead turned his gaze back at the large bird brain. "Time to get this ugly bird's attention… YO BIRD BRAINS! OI! …CAWW! CAWWW!" It continued on with its slow circle and Nero snarled in frustration.

"May I suggest _grabbing_ its attention…in a more productive method?"

Nero gave a grin as he understood the hint perfectly. "Ohhh, gotcha," Nero laughed as he pointed at the demon with his left finger as his readied his Devil Bringer. His Devil Bringer shot up, hand reaching out as fingers grasped around the demon's neck. Resistance instantly came as it tried to veer away in the grip, but Nero only pulled the demon down to the earth, gnawing at his bottom lip as it continued to squirm and resist. "Shit...he's a big boy," Nero huffed when he finally slammed the massive demon onto the ground. Trees and other shrubbery were trampled as the earth trembled at the impact.

"Quick, get on the demon," Vergil ordered and Nero felt his legs doing as he was told without any hesitation. Scrambling on the demon, he watched as Vergil merely jumped onto its back in one graceful leap. Nero snarled at this as he made his way on top, barely clinging onto the back of the demon as it immediately took off, unaware of the extra baggage on its back. Nero stared blindly at the sky before focusing on the situation he once more found himself falling into (or in this case climbing onto). Glaring heatedly at Vergil who seemed impervious to the forces of the wind and possibly gravity itself, he watched as Vergil stood poised and controlled on the massive beast without clinging on like himself. _Showoff. Smug bastard is a fuckin' showoff. _

"What now, oh wise one?" Nero shouted out, words carrying as much sarcasm that Vergil always seemed to emit in his words. Vergil only shrugged his shoulders and began to walk casually down the massive demon, those silver-tinted eyes of blue scanning the horizon. The Son of Sparda was all too aware of the Hell Gate that resided in a sinkhole not too far away. It was actually there did he find something that tickled his demonic senses senseless. The plot was thickening but before he could look into it more, this demon of a bird came out like a defense mechanism. The Gate was old…and well hidden, that was for sure. Whatever was down there was meant to be kept in obscurity for eternity. _I suppose…it is time to truly find out if curiosity kills the cat,_ he thought wryly as he moved toward the massive tale of the bird. The bird's skin was like stone itself but yet strange fur of gnarly green and burnt brown littered the top, providing a good source of stability if you grabbed it. Vergil however was not interested with such things and instead was more curious about the marking on its tail. It gave a soft blue glow as he lightly lifted the Red Queen. The blade was…downright hideous in his opinion. Too bulky. Too…modern.

"The sacrifices I make for myself…tend to be uncomfortable and humiliating," the hybrid murmured to himself before plunging the sword onto the symbol. The bird instantly screeched and began to jerk about, Vergil only pressing the sword further down as black substance gushed out. Vergil made sure to avoid the spray as he only applied more pressure before pulling the blade out. The symbol faded into a dull gray as he turned his body in the direction of the head. Work called – or more like Nero at the moment.

"YOU MOTHERFUCKER! NOW IT KNOWS WE'RE HERE! WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU DO – " the youth growled as the bird decided to flip itself over to drop them both onto the ground. Vergil smoothly crouched down and grasped the strange-looking fur, his fingerless gloves of dark blue giving a clean shine in the sunlight. "– THIS IS POSSIBLY THE WORST CRAP EVER!" Vergil just stared curiously at the fur as he released it, head tilting in question at it… Rubbing his fingers, he took a tentative sniff before frowning at this turn of events. It seemed that this fur was nothing but its second defense if someone ever managed to climb on top of it. The fur was laced with poison and those critical eyes of his noticed the pores deep in the skin secreting the liquid. The demon was getting nervous and in turn it was producing more, and already his sensitive nose was catching the scent of an organophosphate, as if he just inhaled some sort of nerve gas. Baring his teeth, he pinched the bridge of his nose before shaking his head, eyes focusing on Nero.

"Nero…let go of the fur," Vergil barked back over the roar of the wind as he moved forward, watching as Nero did so, body lightly staggering as he tried to right himself on the beast. Moving forward, Vergil gripped Nero's Devil Bringer tightly to balance the youth before he peered into the youth's face. There was a constriction in the pupils and Vergil silently cursed as he proceeded with hastily dragging the youth toward the head of the beast. This was going to be difficult if he had to make sure this idiot didn't tumble off and break his neck. While Vergil moved with graceful strides, Nero sloshed after him, body suddenly feeling tired as he could slowly feel that damn headache come back to him again.

"Vergil…" Nero began but he was silenced when he felt his body stagger forward into Vergil's when the demon lurched downward. Vergil turned to him, body crouched down as he grabbed Nero's Devil Bringer, and pried the fingers open. Placing the hand a rocky ridge on the demon, he gave a sharp look at the youth who was already slumping onto his knees, clinging onto the ridge. Nero understood: hold on unless you want to meet your death. "Hurry." He couldn't understand why he suddenly was feeling so tired. His body seemed to lose all energy and he felt more and more like a rag doll. So he instead tiredly turned his eyes to Vergil who moved with catlike ease toward the top of the head. Even as the bird demon tossed its head and swiveled right and left, Vergil remained steady and in control. Without a second to waste, he watched the Red Queen plunge into the demon's skull, black liquid spewing out of the wound as Vergil repeated the method. Nero noted dully that none of the liquid was spilling on Vergil and instead the wind was carrying it so it flew right in his face.

"I think…I'm going to be sick," Nero groaned as the demon gave a piercing cry and nosedived into the earth. Before his Devil Bringer lost its grip on the demon, Vergil was somehow right before him, his hand grasping Nero roughly by the neck. Nero looked up in fleeting realization and terror, waiting for Vergil to squeeze the life out of him like he could have done last night. The grip tightened but he felt his body become airborne as the demon crashed and burned below him. Eyes wildly turned to Vergil who stared silently before him, and Nero could feel his body only slacken some more. Vergil was choking him and he could feel his lungs scream, but his body was just too tired…too weak… Before spots began to appear before his eyes, he was dropped from the hold, his body falling with a dull thud on the ground. They were back in camp, Nero noticed, as Vergil rummaged through Nero's pack. What Nero wanted to know was what the hell was going on with him as he began to refill his lungs with oxygen. "Vergil…what's going on?"

Vergil only continued searching through the pack, Nero noticing once more that Vergil's shadow was never constant. It was now that slender shape, jaws parting as it seemed to laugh at him silently at his state. Nero only frowned and found the energy to flip the damn shadow off, but it continued cackling in silence. "Your body has been poisoned. Organophosphate poisoning, to be exact. The demon was secreting the poison on the areas coated with fur and you were doing a good job rolling in the substance," Vergil finally spoke, making Nero's eyes widen in disbelief. Poisoned!? "I am poisoned too…but my demonic blood is doing a good job slowing down the effects. As for you? I am afraid it has already kicked in," he added with grave finality that made Nero only more sick to his stomach.

"Cure?" he croaked out.

"Searching for it… Atropa belladonna should at least help. Although I doubt it is packed in here and it is winter... It does not grow during this season," he murmured more to himself than Nero. "If I cannot find it…then…" He trailed off and only kept silent as Nero stared blankly at the back of Vergil.

"Then what!? THEN WHAT?!"

Vergil responded by turning the pack over, watching the contents fall out before dropping the pack. He lightly toed through the items on the ground before giving out a terse sigh. Turning his body to Nero, he moved cautiously to the youth and crouched down, eyes shining with such a foreboding glint that made vomit crawl up his esophagus. "You will need to take off my collar," he began quietly, Nero already roaring in protest and screaming out foul play as he mustered enough energy to crawl away toward the river. "If I do so…I can Devil Trigger and immediately expel the poison from myself. Then I can take the poison out of you – my demonic blood will negate the effects and render the poison useless," Vergil explained calmly over the shouting and commotion Nero was causing.

"And then you'll kill me the minute it's out of your system," Nero barked out, his body already exhausted as he flopped uselessly on the floor. "I rather die…than let that mistake happen again," he heaved out in one breath in steady determination, feeling his tears water for an unexplained reason.

"You won't die…you will instead feel as if your entire insides are about to explode. Muscles will eventually spasm until your body has a fit, rendering you unconscious. Breathing will become erratic, vision will blur, and you will vomit every essence in your body until nothing is left," Vergil warned as he remained put, watching as Nero's chest rose and fell for oxygen. "Already your body has grown tired and weak…and do tell me…have you begun to cry?" Vergil mused, voice now matching the sneer on his lips as he rose to his feet, prowling forward. Nero flinched at the words and he wondered how Vergil knew. He couldn't explain it but tears were leaving his eyes. It wasn't because he was crying or in some sort of excruciating pain yet, but…they left his eyes. Another symptom then? "So…you are willing to let pride and fear keep you in the state you are. Stalling this…rescue trip?"

Nero knew he was being manipulated by Vergil right now, but knowing he was stalling made a dull ache resound in the pit of his chest. He needed to keep on moving but he could not bear to watch that monster come out once more. "F-Fine," Nero breathed out as he slowly pushed himself up into a sitting position, wiping his face with his left arm, "But…if you do me any harm – and in connection fucking up the mission – you can kiss Yamato goodbye. The deal will be off." Vergil seemed to regard Nero with amusement, as if the boy suddenly _did_ have a brain.

"You know how to play," Vergil murmured as he moved closer, Nero's fingers slipping underneath the collar that buzzed against his palm. With a shaky breath and a wince, he tore the collar off once more as fear rippled through his body, only increasing the nauseous feeling welling up inside of him. When Nero opened his eyes he found those piercing eyes of blue with their snowy catlike pupils. He could sense hesitation in the demon, as if it wanted to walk off without another word, but it remained put. Nero only stared wearily, his eyelids sliding over his eyes as he tried to keep the bile down his throat. When clawed fingers tugged at his jacket, he only cracked an eye open as his chin was nestled into his chest. The jacket pooled down to his wrists as a cold hand pushed him more upward, feeling the jacket be pulled off. Before Nero could gurgle out a word in protest, hands tugged off his shirt before tossing it over Nero's head.

Bare-chested and feeling warm, he stared in a memorizing fashion at his glistening chest. He didn't realize that he has been sweating as if he was stranded in a desert. Yet here he was, winter all around him and he felt like a furnace. It was only the cold demonic hand on his back that cooled his flesh down from exploding into a violent wave of heat. The other hand came up and brushed against Nero's collarbone before moving to the shoulder. "This will not be…luxurious," a demonic voice crackled and burned, those hot sparks hitting his flesh and yet he felt nothing. Without another word, the demon bowed his head and before Nero could utter out a sarcastic comment, those teeth of broken glass and metal pierced his skin. They kept on digging further into his skin and he instantly screamed at the pain, body jerking against Vergil who remained immovable. The tears that left his eyes now did come from pain as he screamed and begged Vergil to stop, hands struggling to push away the massive demon that kept him pinned in place. Teeth only sunk in further and Nero panicked, body convulsing in pain that startled his lungs, forcing them to tighten and clench.

"VERGIL! STOP! PLEASE!"

His body froze when he felt the demonic being extract whatever was being extracted. Was it the poison? Or was it not? Nero wasn't sure, his body was going through a breakdown and he could feel his body scream at him to stop this pain and assault. As quickly as he froze did he quickly turn back to his struggling, teeth only cutting wider into the flesh due to this. Centuries seemed to pass and suns and moons could have died before him for all he knew. All he did know at the moment was that whenever his body sought the refuge of being unconscious, something would always jerk him back awake. "Vergil! Please! Stop! I'll do anything! Just stop! You can take the sword! Just take it! Please!" the boy pleaded, but the demon kept on with its business as if it was deaf to the world. His throat became hoarse with the screaming and the crying, and all he could now do was sob in silence as his throat gave a bubbly gurgle in despair. He was going to die. He knew it. How could he be so stupid and release the monster once more and so soon? What did a sword have in value that was more than freedom itself? Now he was going to die at the jaws of his mistake – a bounded executioner that was bound for a good reason.

It was then did Nero realize how cold it was outside and how warm the demon actually was. Blinking in confusion, he turned his tear-stained face toward Vergil – or whatever was left of Vergil. This demonic creature was far from the glorified visage of the humanized male. A warm tongue skimmed the abused flesh when teeth finally left the shoulder, as the demon drew back. Staring at the wound on his shoulder, he found the gashes already healing as if it was an eight-day-old wound. Turning his gaze at Vergil, he found the male once more human in appearance and panting softly in the air, his breath in miniature clouds before him.

"You could have killed me," Nero spoke out in a hoarse voice as he stared at the crouched hybrid, his sobs now silenced into hiccups of air. Vergil, in response, ran a hand through his hair, noting that his hair was now beginning to hang in his face. He was far more interested at this realization of his hair than anything that just occurred or is occurring at the moment. "You saved me…you could have left me to die…" Nero went on and Vergil resisted the urge to once more remind Nero that he wouldn't have died, just suffer damages physically and mentally.

"We have a deal…I have not forgotten it," came the automatic response as Vergil watched Nero finger the now silky necklace in his hand. "I am bound to you." Those words made Nero blink in surprise as his mouth lightly parted in awe. A sense of trust and protection gripped him when those words were uttered, and he felt like a fish being baited by the fish hook, the promise of that juicy worm ever so tantalizing. It was now up to him to take the risk and bite into this trap and find himself being the next meal for the night. He could feel his cheeks flare in determination as he pushed himself to his feet, body shaky but yet he could feel the poison long gone from his body. Staring down at the half-kneeling hybrid, the two were almost picturesque as the hybrid tilted his head upward to meet Nero's gaze.

Eyes closed, Nero gave a steady sigh before opening his eyes. "So Vergil…why didn't you tell me that you were Dante's twin?" Nero asked and it was Vergil's turn to blink in surprise and before the hybrid could react or move away, the necklace was placed over his neck and once again it became the collar. Once again the Son of Sparda was bound.

"Coils within coils," came Vergil's response moments after and Nero gave a quiet nod at this, affirming that all along there was a connection between Yamato and Vergil. Now this changed matters and he wondered why the Sparda family would bind their own flesh and blood. What was it that Vergil did that gained the family's distrust? Dante went out to get Yamato from him long ago in Fortuna, and Nero thought there was compassion in this act. Was not Dante doing this for his brother while the brother was out of commission? Now he was not quite sure…

"But…you saved me twice now…" Nero sighed, changing the topic and telling himself he would confront Dante about it when he found him. Even though Vergil tried to kill him after saving him the first time, Vergil did follow through just now and extract the poison out of him. Yet that did not mean he would lower his guard for a second. At least for now he knew that Vergil would keep to his word if he dangled Yamato above his head. "For doing that…I am grateful. Thanks," Nero added, giving a determined nod as Vergil now kept his head tilted downward. Forgiveness to this hybrid? Never. _Forgive you my ass… The collar may keep you from hurting me, but it doesn't mean it stops me from crushing your face in._

Nero saw Vergil's downward gaze as an act of submission as he walked off to grab some food. Vergil only saw this as a way to hide the birthing sneer on his lips.

_Hook, line and sinker. _

* * *

(* "Without reservation, completely, as in **He swallowed our excuse hook, line, and sinker**. This expression, first recorded in 1865, alludes to a fish swallowing not only the baited hook but the leaden sinker and the entire fishing line between them.")

I really do like making Nero sick. I'm not sure why...but he just seems like the type of guy...who always ends up catching something really nasty when he leasts expects it...or getting sea-sick. Vergil and Dante just don't look like the kind of guys that get sick...to much macho-ism in their image. Seriously! Dante is half-naked in DMC 3 ...and when Vergil has that coat off, he has the whole "check out my guns" deal going on. And then there is Nero...with all those clothes on. 3 ... Sparda did a good job raising his sons! So words of wisdom from Sparda himself, "It's okay to show skin!" Hurray good family values!!!

_Love it? Hate it? Tell me in a review!_


	5. birds of a feather pt 1

**summary: **_// _Post DMC 4 // _Nero liked the idea of playing hero and saving Dante's ass, but when did playing 'hero' suddenly mean asking help from a monstrous secret Dante has been hiding from Nero since day one? All things come with a price and Nero has a bad feeling that Vergil is going to request for more than just Yamato…_

**disclaimer: **I do not own Devil May Cry, Nero, Dante, Vergil, etc. I wish...

**feed me a box of words**  
**chapter five:** birds of a feather pt. 1  
**written by:** of wolves and dogs

"_This is not a full discussion  
Now you are a thing of the past  
And I won't live to see the sunrise  
She says, "I want you to know, before you let me go  
It's your fault I'm demoralized."  
And I won't let what she says go to my head. No, not again.  
Taking over the world, one heart at a time  
She'll chew you up and spit you out like nothing  
Well, it's not her problem.  
Well, now we know  
She's nothing more than just a snake  
A snake devil."_

- Snake Devil by Scary Kids Scaring Kids

* * *

He stared curiously at the mark on his shoulder through the disoriented reflection the river was giving him. It was a bit difficult to look at his shoulder to see the marking, for the mark itself was too heavily close to the junction his collarbone, shoulder and neck created. Sighing, he prodded it but it only gave a soft throb like an old bruise fading away from existence. Prodding it again for good measure, not quite sure what he was trying to accomplish, he sighed and stood up to full height. He strangely felt more energetic than before, and he was expecting the complete opposite after the scare he just went through hours ago. Grabbing his shirt that laid on the ground, he slipped it on over his head as he hurried toward his jacket, his body remembering that he was standing underdressed in the starts of winter.

Cautious. Worried. Grateful.

Those three words were mixed together to form the emotion Nero was feeling at this very moment. So he could dangle Yamato over the lion's head and keep him under control, but that did not diminish the gravity of how powerful this lion was slowly becoming. What else was Vergil capable of doing? Nero painfully began to recall everything that occurred the minute he arrived at the house that had to do with the handsome twin. First of all was the fact that he was not exactly an honored occupant in the household. His own family bound him and even the servants saw him as distasteful, starving him whenever possible. He also learned that Yamato was Vergil's, seeing Dante once said the sword belonged to his brother. Well lo and behold; there was the very 'brother'. Nero was still okay with the deal, after all, as long as Vergil has the collar on he can do no harm to anyone who has Sparda's blood in their veins. So in turn, the sword was truly useless if in Vergil's grasp. Case closed for the sword deal, then. Another thing he learned was the fact that whenever Vergil's collar was off, he instantly Devil Triggered. Meaning he wasted no time when it comes to the 'I'm going to slaughter you in the worst way imaginable right away'. Thirdly, the guy could move hella fast and keep perfect balance 24/7. Another thing he immediately found out was that his strength trumped his own by tenfold and he recalled when he was pinned and held in the Devil's hold. Finally, Vergil seemed to know quite a lot about everything but the collar did a good job zipping his lips.

So in all…he summarized that Vergil was the breathing opposite of Dante. At least with Dante he could kick his ass before getting his own handed on a platter. With Vergil? He couldn't even land a scratch on the hybrid.

"You ready to keep on moving forward?" a voice asked that contained of permafrost and frozen water. Nero turned his gaze to the source and found his current savior and disaster, face lacking emotion save for those eyes that seemed to glitter with dark humor. That's what troubled Nero the most: Vergil wore the face of a good friend, an older brother figure, and projected such dark emotions or dispassionate expressions. It was like looking at the dark side of the moon and knowing nothing was there to guide you toward safety in the dark. Vergil was Dante's eclipse, superstitions of chaos, death and bad luck all combined in one body. So was Nero ready to depart and move on 'forward' with this God of Beasts?

"Yeah," Nero replied as he zipped up his coat, slipping on a glove on his left hand before slipping Red Queen back on his back. Carefully easing the pack onto his back, he followed after Vergil who led the way, snow-white locks of hair and the coat he wore fluttering peacefully in the passing wind. For someone as cold as Winter herself, the hybrid bore Summer's heated rage when the demon emerged. "Do we have to cut through westward?" he asked as the hybrid gave a nod in reply, making Nero frown slightly. It seemed that the hybrid wasn't in the mood for small talk and Nero wasn't sure whether to be annoyed or relieved.

It was after two hours of complete silence did Nero feel as if he was about to combust. The awkward tension he was feeling – or at least he felt that it was awkward between them both, was nearly suffocating him. At least when he journeyed with himself he could banter at enemies that responded back. He could mumble at himself. Curse at whatever was around him whenever he stumbled, and so forth. Yet he could not do the following in Vergil's presence, he felt as if he had to…impress the older male. Act mature, in a strange sense of rationalizing this sensation. Vergil seemed so above everything around him and Nero knew that if he was with Dante the two would be cracking jokes and insulting one another back and forth.

Giving out a heavy sigh for the fortieth time today, Vergil graced him with a curious gaze as an eyebrow was elegantly arched. The man even looked regal as his personality itself. Nero shot a frown and grumbled out an incoherent word. Vergil only shook his head gently and continued leading the way. "We are almost there," Vergil spoke and Nero nearly stumbled at the sudden sound of the man's voice! _Finally! So he_ _is not a mute after all! Go figures…asshole._

What Nero wanted to know is how the hell Vergil managed to make this journey before in less than an hour or so. How was that even humanly possible? _He's not human. Remember? _Nero pursed his lips and nodded; he remembered. _I remember he wants to slit my throat…_ Shoving down the memories of what occurred a day ago, he nearly rammed into the solid back of the older male. A low growl rumbled in Vergil's chest but quickly was silenced as Nero didn't even bother to grumble out an apology. Following Vergil's line of vision, he found himself nearly stuttering out in complete shock. He was standing on the very edge of a sinkhole and he could make out the shape of a Hell Gate.

"How do we get down!?" Nero asked and Nero was answered with Vergil jumping off the edge, landing gently on the ground. "Oh sure…let me jump down two stories. Break a neck? No problem!" Nero muttered darkly under his breath as his Devil Bringer latched onto the edge. Giving a soft inhale of breath, he jumped down, being lowered down carefully onto the ground. Releasing the Devil Bringer, he gave a smug look at Vergil who looked downright un-amused and bored. Snarling at the lack of expression and response, he finally made his way to the looming Hell Gate.

Nero stared in awe at it, noting that the gate was more of a gray color than the usual heavy onyx he had come across. It looked as if Nature herself was rooting herself along the gate, stray weeds and vines wrapping around it on the bottom. He was about to announce that the gate was ancient, not at all recent in any shape, way or form. However his words died in his mouth when he noticed something quite crucial on the Hell Gate. There seemed to be a statue on the face of the Gate. It looked like a man, a –

"NAKED MAN!?" Nero exclaimed as he staggered backward, face flushed a bright pink as he hastily averted his eyes.

"This was the 'interesting' thing I found," Vergil mused beside him, staring curiously at the nude statue. Nero rubbed his cheeks and turned around; shaking his head as he lightly began to pace back and forth. "The demon we fought previously came to life the minute I stepped in the area – a defensive measure I presume."

"What the hell is up with you guys liking statues being naked!? Dante likes naked women and you like naked…men," his last word fell short and weak when eyes of wild silver pierced him straight through his very being, causing all oxygen in him to vacate the premises. He choked on his own saliva as his eyes were frozen in place by those feral eyes that seemed to strangle him senseless. "V-Vergil," Nero stammered out and Vergil blinked as if breaking away from a trance, his head turning aside as Nero gasped for air greedily. "How the fuck did you do that!?" Nero shouted as Vergil only toyed with a lock of hair near the back of his neck, and Nero found it as some innocent act that spoke ignorance to what just occurred.

"Is it my fault that you lose composure at the idea of – ah what was it again? – 'naked men'?" came a cool response with a catlike smirk bleeding into the words even though Vergil's face was impassive as always. Nero only sputtered and blushed madly, huffing in defense as he turned his attention back to the statue with a furious professional aura around him.

"So you wanted to show me a n-naked guy," Nero began, stuttering over the word as he covered it up by giving a soft cough, "That's great. I didn't know you were interested in collecting statues like Dante."

Vergil's hot breath tickled the back of his ear as he felt the hybrid's presence behind him like a menacing dagger eager to stab into his exposed back. Nero's body became rigid as the steady rhythm of breathing barraged his ear, warming up the limb. "Listen," a voice murmured into his ear and Nero found it terribly hard to listen to _anything_ knowing that a male made up of demonic blood and the cruel ice itself was behind him managing to breath down a fire storm. "Close your eyes," the voice commanded and he gingerly obeyed orders as the hot breath from the hybrid was now tickling the junction where the jaw began. "What can you feel?"

_Your hot breath on my jaw…and how you're kind of intruding my personal bubble. _

He kept his body still, afraid that if he moved and shifted his body against the demon's, hands would grasp his neck and snap it. Although he wasn't quite sure what was the 'wrong way' to move against the half-devil's body. _Wait!? What!?_ His thoughts collided with each other, not quite sure if they were on the same page. Resisting the urge to squirm under Vergil's attack on his jaw, he bit his tongue and clenched his fists.

"You are distracted. Concentrate."

_Of course I'm distracted, you fucktard! You're busy acting all hot and bothered against me while I am still here staring at that naked statue of some random guy! _

"Nero."

Shutting his mind down for a second to stop the thoughts that were giving out two different signals at once, he felt something tickle him around his navel. At first he thought it was Vergil and was about to sputter out a weak protest, when he realized that it was nothing but a familiar pull. It was the pull of a living spirit and he finally understood what Vergil meant. Concentrating on the pull, he emerged himself in Death, Devil Bringer glowing violently. And in Life, Nero's body became deathly still and frozen in spot, immobile. Vergil only kept his eyes trained on the Devil Bringer, his eyes betraying the dark fascination of the arm.

Entering the silent grounds that were covered thickly in ruins and blood you could wade in, Nero moved onward through Death, unaware of what occurred out in Life. The spirit was nowhere in the First Gate, so he moved onward toward the Second Gate. The Second Gate was where he met a few demons, his Devil Bringer quickly disposing them as strange eyes on the wall stared at him before rolling upward and to the left. It seemed it did not find him interesting enough.

It was near the corner of the area did he feel the spirit, and his Devil Bringer immediately latched onto it and began to drag it to Life. The spirit felt like lead, and he found himself laboriously trying to push forward. If he stayed any longer in Death, other demons would hear him and come after him while he was vulnerable. Already he could feel the warm tickle of Life before him as he moved forward, yet he couldn't shake off this feeling that he was being watched. Nero shook his head, knowing better than to turn and look to see if this feeling was true. He has seen enough horror films to know that the minute you looked back was the minute things turned into utter shit for you. Finally throwing himself into the embrace of Life, a ragged gasp escaped him as he shook away the cold from his body. When his eyes opened, he still stared at the statue but he could feel the spirit inside of it. Frowning, he moved forward and stared silently at the statue, making sure to keep his gaze above the waist. What now?

"I don't get it…" Nero murmured as he squinted, trying to look for some sort of clue. Instead his eyes only noticed the messy array the statue's hair was in. A look of complete shock was on the statue's face as if he was just betrayed or caught in some sort of trap. All details on the statue were intricate and he could even see the tiny veins in the wide-open eyes. Puzzled, he touched the statue's forehead and he could feel the warm pulse of the life behind it.

"A kiss," Vergil murmured as he now became more interested with his fingerless gloves as he stood a good distance away from the gate itself now. "Actually, a breath would suffice. But you have to start kissing someone sometime, I suppose," he finished in nonchalance, causing Nero's face to heat up as he snarled in immediate defense. His eyes stared to Vergil in disbelief, but only saw that same expressionless face as he yawned in boredom. Turning his gaze back to the statue, he made a sound of discomfort as he shifted his weight uneasily from side to side.

_Kiss…a statue? Of a guy? Err…_

"You are bound to Sparda's will, correct?" Nero asked as he turned to Vergil again who stared at him now with a glitter of bitterness in those orbs of steel.

"Yes. Worse luck," Vergil replied blandly, not missing a beat. Nero had the hunch that Vergil knew exactly what was going to come next and he seemed to dare Nero to speak his next words. Nero swallowed the lump his throat before giving a huff in encouragement for himself.

"Then…I order you to awaken – kiss, whatever - the statue," Nero demanded with a childlike form of determination and pure stubbornness. There was no way he was going to kiss some statue, especially in front of Vergil. That was just…embarrassing. Vergil casted his eyes onto Nero with the pace of a snail and when they met, Nero hastily forced a look of enforcement and command onto his face. The collar seemed to glint in the streams of sunlight and Nero swore he saw the band of metal lightly tighten as if it sensed resistance from the hybrid. Vergil closed his eyes, giving a gentle sigh in defeat and moved toward the statue.

"Brat," were the only words that left Vergil's mouth as he passed Nero to approach the statue. Eyes regarded the statue critically, as lips curled into the faintest hints of a sneer, as if the statue was not worthy whatsoever. Then eyes settled on the statue's slightly parted lips, like seeing something of mere amusement; lips were then drawn into a smirk as if he was just about to pull a cruel prank on another. Nero could only stare, watching the hybrid of ice and locks of snow draw close to bestow such soft-colored lips on the statue's gray surface. It was porcelain meeting chiseled limestone, and Nero felt his brows furrow in growing frustration. Tempted to grab Vergil by the shoulder and jerk him away, he bantered at himself on the fact on _why _he insisted for the hybrid to do this. So instead he settled with grinding his teeth at the scene, not quite sure why he couldn't stomach the embarrassment of doing it himself. Already feeling his patience dwindle as seconds seemed to feel like hours, he was about to open his mouth and harshly order the male to pry his lips off of the statue's when Vergil did so himself.

"He has a sense of humor…" were the words Vergil spoke when he took a couple of steps back, Nero hastily moving aside, not realizing he was suddenly so close to the male. About to question Vergil's words, the sound of a stone cracking mixed with the sound of a busted pipe releasing steam filled the air. Nero moved toward the statue, staring incredulously as the stone began to shudder, crack into shards and fall off. "I would stand back, Nero."

"What is it?" Nero asked as he took a few steps back.

"Ah…this Gate is ancient, Nero. Older than you and I…the demon we fought earlier was a defense mechanism if someone goes near it. The demon that has been guarding the Gate and it's…prisoner so diligently, is actually an archangel."

"Uh-huh…sure thing, Vergil," Nero replied, not at all believing one word the man uttered out.

His eyes remained glued to the statue and before Nero could even blink, the casing of limestone fell revealing a gasping young man who was…rather…"Wow, you're short!" Nero exclaimed as he now stared at a fiery-haired male who was glancing wildly at his surroundings, bright green eyes narrowed into suspicion. Hearing the words leave Nero, eyes flashed toward him as a menacing growl left his lips.

"SHORT!?" the male barked out, causing Nero to stagger back and blink in complete shock. "I'M NOT SHORT! FUCK YOU!" Nero felt his jaw drop at the flying curse word as he felt his own hackles rise in offence. What the hell was this guy's problem!? Can't a man tell another man that he is a pipsqueak!? Oh the humanity!

"…hey," Nero huffed, jabbing a finger at Mr. Midget's bare chest, "You can't say that to me – you're an angel!" _Even if I think that you are a bit too short to qualify as anything…let alone ride a rollercoaster. _He was tempted to place his hand on the archangel's head like in the movies, while the guy tries to swing at you but misses. But he had a hunch that might only cause more problems than solve them…although he wasn't quite sure how anything he was doing right now was going to solve anything!

"I can say whatever I want to someone like you! You are probably my brother's little _hand_ servant!" the archangel spat out, and Nero gave an appalled look. _Hand _servant!? _Like…like a butler or like some kind of whore?! _

"HAND SERVANT!? …WHAT!?" Nero shouted out as he moved forward, towering over the red-head who was about a head shorter than him. "Do I _look _like I'm passing out sexual favors, small fry?"

"Look at that arm of yours!"

Nero involuntarily snarled, subconsciously moving his arm away from view after years of scrutiny. He was still sore about his arm and the fact people gave him a hard time about it. The only one who was ever interested about it was that crazy loon Agnus and Vergil. Everyone else saw him as some sort of walking amusement park. "So!" Nero hissed out, "And who the hell is your brother anyways!? You shouldn't be insulting your own family, asshole!" He swore he heard Vergil give a noncommittal scoff somewhere in the background.

"My brother is Lucifer and I have every reason to insult him!" the archangel declared strongly, causing Nero's furious glare to falter as he blinked in realization. So Lucifer was once more being tied into this all. Nero gave a nod in understanding as he crossed his arms across his chest, the archangel seeming to also ease on the rage. "Ah...I see," Nero sighed out softly as he gave a quiet nod, "So let me guess…he's taller than you, isn't he."

A roar in outrage left the archangel as Nero burst out in laughter. "WHAT!? NO! …maybe… Shut the fuck up, antichrist!"

"Antichrist!? Do you see me burning down churches!?"

"Then explain your arm!"

"So if I had a horn on my head that would make me the devil then too, eh?"

"No! That means you're a fuckin' unicorn!"

"Oh fuck you, midget!"

Vergil blinked in silence at the two bickering, fingers jabbing roughly at each other's chests in some hope to hurt the other. It was like watching two dogs fight over a piece of meat and Vergil was beginning to find it this all…disgraceful. This was exactly the reason why he despised company and another reason why he despised those that slaughtered the English language. However, awakening this archangel was necessary. There was always a reason behind an action whether it is known in the present or will be known in the future. Gently scratching the underside of his jaw, he wondered if they would eventually tire of insulting one another.

"And what's worse is that you're hanging around with a demon!"

"GOD! Just put some fuckin' clothes on first! I can't take you seriously with that popsicle stick hanging around!"

"WHAT!?"

Vergil sighed and lightly gestured for Nero to go to his pack and fetch some spare clothes. Nero grumbled and went over to grab the garments, tossing them haphazardly at the archangel. "Nero…why don't you fetch some firewood. I am sure our new friend here is quite cold…" Vergil suggested and Nero was about to protest, but cut himself short.

"I don't want to be near this demon!" the archangel huffed out, "Or any one of you guys. Period!"

"Fuck you, princess! He's the one that got you out of your little statue home! What are you? A pervert? Needing people to kiss you to wake up, sleeping beauty?" Nero growled in immediate defense and Vergil wasn't sure whether to be amused at this show of protection or bored at best. Without another word, Nero stomped off like a petulant child and Vergil stared coolly at the archangel with eyes of darkening cobalt blue.

"Your brother has a fine sense of humor, Michael. That spell required those with demon blood to break it," Vergil drawled out as Michael narrowed his eyes in caution as he slowly got dressed.

"You know my name?"

"Many people do," came the cryptic response as Michael slowly moved forward, eyes staring curiously at the collar before touching it with his index finger. A hum in recognition escaped him before he drew back, slipping on the trousers given to him.

"Son of Sparda…your father is a great man. I heavily respect him…although it seems as if that spell of yours is on speaks of something different in you," Michael mused, and Vergil gave a careful shrug and nothing more. Michael's use of the English language seemed to change as a serious air gripped him, eyes showing a heavy sense of duty that has been persistent and resilient through Time. "I heard of you, Vergil – son of a demon and of a human. I thought you were dead and only one son remained. Who was it that dragged your corpse back to life? Surely not that idiot you are traveling with…" the calm tone Michael once used was now growing into a growling vibrato that formed a deep threat.

"I am afraid…my binding restricts me to speak such information. Truly sorry."

"Oh fuck you; I know that's a damn lie. But I am pleased to see that you cannot cause any harm with that collar on," Michael huffed and Vergil kept silent, not about to correct this archangel. Let Michael believe he was harmless for now. "So why are you with the child?"

Vergil simply tilted his head to the right and gracefully took a seat on the ground as he watched Nero come in with the wood. "We are both going to free my brother who is in quite the predicament," Vergil drawled out blandly and Nero gave a grin at the words as he came in.

"Yeah…_got it_ _memorized_?" Nero cut in, giving a threatening glare at the archangel who merely frowned as Vergil rolled his eyes at this show of machismo from them both. Honestly, this was beginning to get absolutely ridiculous. Michael took a seat across from the fire that was started minutes later, making sure to be away from both Nero and Vergil. "So what the fuck is your story, Statue Boy? Got a name with that excessive streak of nudity?" Nero taunted and Michael sank his teeth into the taunt and barred his teeth in response. For an archangel, this guy was easy to piss. Nero couldn't help but smirk at this, enjoying belittling this asshole.

"Michael, my name is Michael."

"_Saint Michael_, well I'll be. I never knew Saint Michael was a complete douche. Must run in the family, seeing your brother is the Mr. High and Mighty Asshole and leading the bunch," Nero grinned, snorting in laughter at his own words.

"Do you have a girlfriend?" Michael suddenly asked, causing Nero to glare and grit his teeth. "Figured as much… For a guy who enjoys teasing me, you seem like the type who would have a sweet girl behind you. I bet she's religious…and I bet ever day she gets down on her knees and prays to me," the archangel cooed gently. Nero caught the underlying meaning in the words and he howled in offense, his body immediately going out to lunge at the smug angel. Before he could get far, a hand grasped his shoulder roughly and shoved him back onto the ground. Nero squirmed in the grip he was suddenly under and jerked his head up to see Vergil staring silently and at Michael. He could feel the anger seep away from him, as if Vergil's fingers was sucking the bristling energy out of him.

"Now, now…behave Michael. Your idea of humor is as skewed as your brother's. Let's not forget that he sealed you, and let us not forget that it had to be by a demon's touch to break the spell. Will you continue to sully your lips or should I let Nero shatter your visage with his fist?" came the calm, cool and collected words that left Vergil's lips with a gentle smile tickling his lips, making the threat slithering in the grass only magnify as the air seemed to grow cold.

Michael kept his mouth closed, obviously injured by the words as he roughly rubbed his lips with the side of his arm in response. "You speak of Lucifer as if you met the man," Michael hissed out grumpily, eyes averted to the crackling flames. Vergil's grip finally left Nero's shoulder as he drew his fingers away as Vergil continued to stare at Michael. Nero stared curiously at them both, straightening his body as he listened eagerly. Maybe finally he would understand what the fuck was going on around here.

"Rumor is…he is quite the famous angel. Name all over books and walls…" Vergil replied back with enough sarcasm to leave Nero grinning like a fool. While Nero could dish out the curse words, it was Vergil's words that sliced tendons as he watched you bleed yourself to death. Nero couldn't have been more proud of the twin as he sat there oozing out such grace and control.

"Don't give me that shit – "

"Fuck you!" Nero barked out, causing Michael to only snarl and bare his teeth in response at Nero's outburst. "For your information, we don't give a rat's ass about Lucifer and you – especially you. We are here for one reason and one reason only: to save Dante's ass. Got it? So you can march your midget ass back to the North Pole and build some more fucking toys, fucking elf!"

Vergil sighed out gently, fingers flicking out in a gesture that silenced the both of them in a heartbeat. "We are both aware of the demons and the Hell Gates. Not too long ago there was a demon who swore to seek vengeance with Lucifer's aid. Now finding you, it is quite safe enough to assume…that Lucifer is pulling a few strings. If that is what you mean, than that is all I can offer," Vergil sighed out, voice reading boredom as he began to toy with a lock of his hair that fell astray before pushing it back into place.

"It's never as simple like that…he's never simple. He always is scheming!" Michael protested, leaping to his feet and pacing across the floor in a slow pace. Nero only groaned and flopped down onto the ground, staring at the opening of the sink hole. _This is getting too complicated_. The sky was already beginning to grow darker and he could not believe he was losing time thanks to all these fucking obstacles.

"What the fuck is so great about him. So he's an angel – demon – whatever – fuck who cares! _If_ he comes up, we kick his ass. Case solved. We all go home happy," Nero supplied and Michael gave out a dry chuckle.

"Stupid child! You know nothing of him whatsoever!" Michael replied back darkly. Nero shot a glare at the sky, not even going to give Michael the time to sit up and spew out a more curse words.

Vergil only rubbed his left temple before explaining in that same calm tone of his that made Nero stifle a yawn. "Lucifer is a Fallen, an angel who was banished from Heaven near the beginning of creation due to his ambitious ideals. His fall in turn lead to him creating the Underworld – or as some may call 'Hell'. Hell, Heaven and Earth then became connected with pathways known as Death. Your arm – "

"WOAH! VERGIL!" Nero exclaimed as he sat up suddenly, body turned to Vergil who only blinked before frowning at Nero interrupting him. Honestly, it seemed that Nero's manners were quite a mess. "You can talk!"

"Duh he can talk, moron. He was talking before," Michael bit back but Nero shook his head and bravely reached out and patted Vergil's knee in excitement. "You're mentally challenged, aren't you," Michael hissed at Nero, but Nero ignored the comment.

Vergil only stared before his eyes soon showed realization before his fingers touched his collar in curiosity. Giving a hum in a thought he brought his hand before him and lightly flicked his fingers, and Nero stared in a mixture of awe and horror at the clawed hand. "The Gate…it's giving me leeway on what I can and cannot do," Vergil mused as he motioned for Nero to give him his own hand. Nero pursed his lips but brought his left hand toward Vergil, watching as the un-clawed hand grabbed it gently. Nero could feel years and years worth of calluses and scars on Vergil's hand as he brought his clawed hand closer to Nero. Expecting the claws to scrape against his skin, he instead found Vergil drawing his hand back and giving a quiet gasp for oxygen. "There are still limits – you are safe," Vergil murmured out quietly to Nero who gave a grateful nod in response, visibly relieved. Michael only stared in complete befuddlement at the show before him.

"Alright then, Verge. Go on – what else do I need to know about him?" Nero asked with an air of seriousness and a tinge of something akin to soothing a child that just suffered a blow. It was as if Nero was trying to brush aside and glide over the past problem he bore with Vergil and his demonic side. Knowing this made Vergil a tad confused, not quite sure of the motives behind such a motherly act. Shaking his head gently, he gave a nod and cleared his throat to once more speak.

"Lucifer is known by many names. Satan, Devil, Iblis, Morning Star, and so forth…and he is no demon. He is a fallen angel and he gave life to the Seven Deadly Sins. However, he did not fall by himself – there were others who fell after him, swearing loyalty to him. While you have Princes of Hell, he is the reigning mastermind and father of Hell itself. Mundus called himself a Prince of Darkness…but he was nothing but a creature wanting to wear a title that did not belong to him – " Vergil continued once more but was cut off my Michael who sat back down before the fire, face grim.

"Lucifer and Mundus are two different beings – do not confuse them both for each other. Mundus was spawned in the Underworld himself, Lucifer was formed in Heaven. While Mundus relies heavily on such pathetic scavengers for demons, Lucifer reigns full control of those but most of all of the Fallen and the Abyss. Mundus was a…eager bastard – willing to take opportunities and run with them without a moment's hesitation. Nothing was ever truly thought out, just sloppily coordinated. Of course we are _aware_ that my brother is trapped in the Ninth Circle, encased in ice…as was Mundus aware. So the minute Lucifer was trapped, he took up the role as the Prince of Darkness, claiming he was truly the rightful leader. Look at where he stands now: six feet under and in shreds, never to be assembled again. Now…Lucifer must be free…I can suspect that blame should go to those religious idiots in Fortuna. Opening the true Hell Gate was a mistake…tampering in powers left un-tampered with was a mistakes. I can only assume he wishes to emerge from his cell for the sake of exercising his power… I came as a scout – to see with my own eyes – what was going on… But it was a trap, and I found myself encased in stone until you two came along. I am fortunate this Gate is incapacitated in a small sense…"

Silence fell on the group as Nero drank in this information. Nero knew of Mundus and Sparda. He knew that Sparda beat the shit out of Mundus and he heard from Dante that he put Mundus down like a sick puppy when he decided to come back to reek some more damage. That was why Trish spelled so funny to the quarter of his demonic blood coursing through his arm. She smelled of plastic – neither real nor fake, but made in the vision expected. But Mundus sounded like one difficult motherfucker to kill and if this Lucifer was even ten times more difficult - and not even a demon but a fallen angel, than this was going to be hella tough. More reason why he needed to get Dante fast. Dante would know what to do.

"That's nice, Midget – err, Michael, but we got a dumbass to rescue, kapish?"

"No," Michael declared suddenly, "I cannot leave you two out of my sight now."

"WHAT!? Hey, asshole! Don't make me sic Vergil on you! He will tear you into pieces!" Nero barked back, causing Vergil to turn his attention to the empty space to his right, finding _that _far more interesting than the conversation taking place. Nero chose to ignore his sidekick – _heh, he IS my sidekick. Damn straight. I'm the leading man! _

"Your threats are meaningless. You must stay in my sight or I will be forced to kill you both. You bear the mark of the antichrist, plus your name only furthers this fact," Michael replied back heatedly as he pointed at Nero who only tossed his arms up in exasperation. This guy just didn't give up. "And you! You are a menace to society! You have resurrected the fated tower, Temen-ni-gru! A tower that has taken years and effort for your father to seal! Your father helped not only Earth but Heaven in turn, by stealing the names of the fallen angels that make up the Seven Deadly Sins. And you in turn undid all his work in merely a year! Plus you became Mundus' servant after your fall into Hell. How many lives have been taken by that sword of yours, Vergil? You two…will not leave my sight whatsoever!"

Vergil looked downright bored and Nero was fuming a storm beside him. He needed to go and save Dante's ass, and he had a hunch that Michael would let them do no such thing and remain put. _God fucking dammit! _And for a moment he wished that Vergil could read his thoughts or they could converse somehow in sign language or something like that. Sneaking a glance at Vergil, he saw the male only shrug his shoulders in nonchalance as if asking, 'Are you done ranting yet?' If Vergil was taking this in stride, then he should too. Vergil probably had a plan…he always seemed to be two steps ahead of everyone so far.

But if Vergil was truly two steps ahead of everyone…then why the hell did he not foresee this happening? Why the hell did Vergil need to wake this asshole up?

"I hope everyone rots and burns in Hell," Nero finished out in annoyance before making a large show of getting ready to go to bed. Michael made a look like he was about to throw up at the words before turning outraged. Vergil only turned his eyes slyly toward Nero, like a feline that was being scratched in the right area, as lips pulled into an amused smirk.

Who said being two steps ahead had to benefit everyone in your party?

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_Love it? Hate it? Tell me in a review!  
_


	6. the joke is on you

**summary: **_// _Post DMC 4 // _Nero liked the idea of playing hero and saving Dante's ass, but when did playing 'hero' suddenly mean asking help from a monstrous secret Dante has been hiding from Nero since day one? All things come with a price and Nero has a bad feeling that Vergil is going to request for more than just Yamato…_

**disclaimer: **I do not own Devil May Cry, Nero, Dante, Vergil, etc. I wish...

**a/n: Sorry for the super late update! College is all consuming! But I am still alive and I am going to finish this story one way or another. So here is the next chapter for the story! Don't forget to review! More reviews = happy author = more updates = more goodies for you!**

_  
_  
**feed me a box of words  
chapter six**: the joke is on you  
by: of wolves and dogs

**"**_Hide behind an empty face  
Don't ask too much, just say  
'Cause this is just a game  
Everyone's looking at me  
I'm running around in circles, baby  
A quiet desperation's building higher**.**_**"**

- A Beautiful Lie by 30 Seconds to Mars

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A soft gasp left lips of painted rose petals, parting to allow oxygen to flow deep in the reservoirs called lungs. Eyes of molten silver encrusted in blue stared in pure contempt and satisfaction at the writhing body underneath him. His name was soundless on the lips underneath him, but he could hear it as if the name was being shouted into his ears. Pale fingers reached out searchingly, grasping the side of a neck with skin that spoke of a faint kiss from the sun and nothing more. Pulling the bare skinned male downward, fingers roamed upward to grasp those locks of snow that did not melt at the heated fingers. Face pulled into the crook of a neck, a tongue flicked out of the hot cavernous mouth to lick the sweat running down the funnel of the neck.

Like drawing an invisible line from point A to point B, lips moved across the collarbone until meeting the exposed shoulder. Already it was marked with teeth marks, and incisors merely slid into the already made grooves. A groan resonated into the air as muscles shuddered in anticipation as the body continued to exert itself in a steady rhythm. "We really shouldn't be doing this," a voice murmured out, and a terse sigh in disappointment was the instant response as fingers threaded into the silky locks of hair.

"No, don't worry – he's asleep and can't hear us."

A quiet hum left the white-haired male as he drew back, eyes now the usual watered-down blue as an eyebrow was cocked in pure amusement. "Temptation is a sin," came the words, riddled with a coy sensuality as lips descended onto the awaiting lips before him. Before they could meet, the hybrid drew back and stood to full height. Slipping on his discarded shirt back on and watching the other pout in displeasure, he gave a laughing shrug followed by a childish wave. "Give me a call when he's on vacation," the Son of Sparda chuckled before moving his way out of the area.

Dante had to admit it; he was having one of those wonderful days again. Or at least it was starting out to be wonderful. Leaving the tiny cottage, he stretched his arms and relished in the soothing pop his limbs created. He found himself about less than a day's journey away from the Devil May Cry building and he wondered how his two girls were holding up. A frown instantly gripped his rugged yet terribly handsome face as his fingers touched the pocket of his pants in mild despair. His phone was lying somewhere in the ground, smashed into pieces by one large and incredibly stupid demon that more-or-less had a brain the size of a walnut. _Talk about being redundant._ However he was pleased to say he had been paid handsomely to destroy that pesky demon in Lystra along with the Hell Gate.

"No way am I letting Lady touch my hard-earned money!" Dante informed the nearby sparrow who was pecking curiously at the ground before fluttering off. Turning his gaze to the 'borrowed' bike (alright, it was Lady's bike…but it was in perfect condition! Not a scratch…or at least a noticeable one). Slipping on the machine, he stuck the keys in the ignition before zooming out of sight. Beating demons, rescuing damsels in distress who offer to show you a 'good time' – man was life perfect. Although the amount of demons being produced out of thin air along with the Hell Gates were troubling. So far he heard not one clue on what could be occurring and some religious men were speaking of the end of the world. Armageddon and so forth. It was a load of crock, in his opinion. End of the world? Not on his watch. How could life itself go on without warm, Italian pizzas and girls in scanty bunny costumes? A smirk tickled his lips at the thought as he zoomed through the nearly vacant road.

Of course he had a strong hunch that he was going to soon be in the receiving end of some torturous abuse. Those girls were probably pissed that he didn't call them to tell them his every breathing movement. Sheesh. Women. Couldn't they just use their 'womanly intuition' and figure out that he was okay? Come on! And have a little faith in Dante! It's not like he was going to get randomly attacked by bizarre demons –

"What the – _shit!_"

Something shot downward directly in front of him, forcing him to jerk the motorcycle out of the way and into a wild skidding run. Coming to a halt, he jerked his head to the left as he lightly sniffed the air. Something smelled of demons…but there was something strange with the scent. Cocking his head upward, he stared at two human-sized creatures with massive wings of pure white. Eyes narrowing as he tried to remember where he saw these things, he watched as one spread its wings and held a lance-like object.

_Fallens!? _

Kicking the motorcycle into gear, he moved out of the way as the lance struck the ground before combusting. _Shit, I promised I wouldn't dent Lady's bike too much… _Quickly coming to a halt, he leaped off of the bike and darted toward the nearest Fallen. Tugging Rebellion out, he lunged upward, sword rising up to meet those feathered wings. The wings might as well be made of pure metal, because nothing happened as he was batted away by them. Landing back on the ground, he racked his brain on how the hell he was supposed to kill these bastards. On cue, the massive creature spread its wings out, lance pulled back as it swooped downward. Dante saw his opening as he saw the charred body behind the feathers with eyes glowing a terrible crimson.

Licking a sharp incisor and keeping his tongue glued to the area, he jerked his own hand back. As the Fallen elegantly threw the lance of now terrible flames that were licking the object into a senseless gold, Dante haphazardly tossed his own sword as if it was a dart. The hybrid made sure to move out of the way of the flying projectile, but the Fallen was less unfortunate and took Rebellion to the chest. It instantly sank to the floor, writhing and giving out a sound that was somewhere between masculine and feminine in tone. Dante didn't bother watching it, instead he kicked himself into high gear and ran toward the Fallen. Kicking the handle of the Rebellion, the sword successfully drove deeper into the creature before violently shaking – combusting into a flash of fire and melted gold.

"Hmph," Dante smirked as he lightly swiped at his nose, sticking his head proudly to the sky. About to proclaim his obvious prowess and strength to the world, his words became silenced as he watched three more Fallen descend toward him. Grimacing at the sight, he sprinted forward, hand reaching out to grab Rebellion that remained rooted to the ground. As if on cue, the nearest Fallen swooped forward, causing him to jerk to his right and avoid the mass of feathers. Another hovered before him, causing him to jerk back a few steps as his fingers brushed against Rebellion's handle lovingly. About to grab the fated sword, something hot sliced at his hand, making him yelp in offense as his attacked hand immediately was pressed against his chest in protection. Turning his eyes toward the attacker, he found that the third Fallen was the one that swiped at him when it saw him touch his weapon. Giving a heavy sigh through his nostrils, he slowly backed up as the three more or less hovered lazily in the air like three cocky sentinels.

They were going to make sure he never touched that sword again, and they already knew his guns were useless as long as they kept their wings pinned to their body. Glancing at his right hand now coated in sticky, crimson fluid a smirk slowly settled on his lips. "So you guys like to play dirty, eh?" he mused as he lightly cracked his neck, knees slightly bent as he mentally counted the distance in meters between him and Rebellion. Closing his eyes, he gently took in the air before flying off on quick feet. Eyes of blue saw the three Fallens as nothing but stepping stones as he lunged up, foot connecting with the Fallen's shoulder. Pushing himself off, he roundhouse kicked the second one that was furiously flapping its wings, sending it into the ground in a flurry of feathers. It was on the third one did the Fallen display its wingspan, weapon out and sweeping toward him in a graceful arch. Ivory and Ebony were already out, firing a round into the Fallen's face and causing the arch to falter and stagger, giving him enough time to safely touch upon the creature's head before jumping behind it. Landing on the floor and placing the two guns back in their holsters, his hand grabbed Rebellion out of the earth and spun around to meet whatever attack would come.

None came.

Blinking in confusion, he watched the three hover once more in his way and whichever way he moved they moved – as if blocking his way. When he charged, they would make sure to push him back further and further away. None of this escaped Dante and his trained mind was already working up a way to get rid of these nuisances once and for all. Sheathing Rebellion, he gently touched his guns – Ebony and Ivory – and finally there was Gilgamesh that he carried around just for perks. It seemed he would have to resort to the weapon to quickly eliminate these asses. Staring at the three with caution and wariness, he slipped on the gauntlets and greaves as it hastily finished the rest and latched onto his body with ease.

"I guess we don't have time for Q&A, do we now?" Dante laughed as he lightly adjusted his greaves before playfully boxing with the air. Waiting for one of the Fallens to shift in anxious anticipation, he made his move. Body jerking forward with incredible speed, it felt as if there were invisible hands pushing him forward toward his goal. Foot immediately connected with the shield of feathers as his body was shoved upward into the air, wings parting to reveal the creature drawing back its weapon. Dante didn't waste any time as he flipped in the air, driving the back of his heel into the creature's skull. Landing on the ground, pulling out Rebellion, he allowed instinct to take over as the treasured sword soon made its way home into the creature's jugular.

In an array of lights and sparks, the creature was nothing more but ashes onto the floor.

Eyes of those watered-down blue turned to the two others as he sheathed Rebellion once more, allowing the warm familiarity of Gilgamesh take over to repeat the process. Time to see if he could beat his record on how fast he could take these puppies down…

It was exactly three minutes later did he find himself nearly unscathed and wiping the dirt off of his hands. Well it wasn't exactly a new record compared to the other times he fought those flying pigeons. Dante instantly sobered up at the thought. The last time he fought Fallens was when his _charming _(insert sarcasm) brother decided he wanted to bring Hell onto Earth for his own power hungry needs. "Hmm…I need to head back to the girls and tell them this…" he decided after a moment, making a direct beeline to the awaiting motorcycle.

Shit was definitely beginning to get serious.

Riding recklessly and over the speed limit, he did not even bother slowing down at the checkpoint formed by the police before heading near the city. Right now he needed answers and most of all he needed to enlighten the girls that all the shit going on recently _had_ to be connected one way or another. He supposed his only blessing for the day was the fact that he had just enough gas to make it to his destination and that all authorities were pissing in their pants at the idea of actually trying to stop the crazed driver.

It was when he entered the pigsty of a city did he finally tone down his wild driving, body more aware as he turned each familiar corner to his destination. He was expecting to find home a complete disaster with burning buildings and ravaging lizards – oh wait, that was Godzilla. Yet instead the city appeared normal, so what on earth were those Fallens blocking his direction to get back home? Braking quite sloppily before Devil May Cry, the bike skidding against the road, he hastily jerked the keys out of the bike as he propped it up. Dante rushed to the entrance, hand jerking the door open as he rushed in. Spotting Trish and Lady hunched over the desk with a map in hand, he gave a huff in exasperation, "Guess what I ran into just a few minutes ago!"

"DANTE! You're alive!"

"Fallen! Not one, not two – four! Four Fallen! I haven't – "

"God, I'm happy you're back!" Trish explained as she pulled Dante into a hug, who was still conversing.

" – seen them since Temen-ni-gru! Yeah, it's nice to be back Trish. Look this does not smell good. Something smells – "

"Where's Nero?"

" – fishy and I don't like it one bit – Nero? The kid? What about him?"

Both females turned to him with matching frowns as they crossed their arms across their chests. Dante cocked any eyebrow as he lightly scratched his chin, "Nero should be in Fortuna…I don't think he left the place… Why? He call? Look, if he's bitchin' that I didn't come tell him I was kind of preoccupied." Lady gave a mortified look as Trish's face darkened with disbelief as she moved back to the desk to grab the map. "What I say?"

Lady released a terse sigh, praying that Dante was trying to be funny, "Nero. He left Fortuna to search for you after the scare! He was the one that got you out of the mess you were in!"

"The mess I was in? Hey, I can take out demons and Hell Gates quite well by myself. I cleared the area up in the north at Lystra, and I got a good pay! If you want some of my hard-earned money, then hell no!" Dante smirked as he moved toward the back to the fridge. He could go for a cold one about now. These girls were in the need of one too, because they were acting mighty funny. _Maybe it's that time of the month. _Nothing freaked him out more than that section of the month when all females felt the need to gush out blood. Talk about being a masochist, and you will find 'female population' under the definition. Shuddering as he scanned the fridge, he focused on finding a heavenly alcoholic beverage and drowning the image of blood.

"Dante…you sent the Doppelganger and Yamato to Nero! The kid went out looking for you!" Lady explained hotly, pursuing Dante.

He still didn't get it. Blood!? From there? Why can't girls be normal and just bleed when they get a cut or something. No need to impress us men and bleed from the nether regions every month.

"Yamato is back at the House and is secured. Plus I haven't used the Doppelganger since…hell, since that whole fucked up week I first met you," Dante corrected as he grabbed a can, soon drinking in the heavenly liquid. That woman was beginning to grate on his nerves. Can't a man relax and be pampered for once while drowning out the image of women bleeding from you-know-where? "Plus I got more pressing matters – like those Fallen. They shouldn't be up and about…did someone resurrect another fuckin' tower?"

_Maybe I have another twin…maybe it's triplets and not twins…and there is a less charming and handsome me out there resurrecting fucked up towers… _Dante gave a 'heh' at the thought as he scratched his abdomen in nonchalance.

"_Dante_…Nero went to the House in search for clues… He was given the Yamato by a Doppelganger that looked exactly like you back in Fortuna. He believed you were trapped in Death," Trish broke through levelly, causing Dante to nearly sputter and spit out his drink. "I…told him where to go because…we all thought you were gone."

Dante took a seat behind the desk as he allowed the information to sink in. Nero handed back the Yamato to him, claiming he no longer needed it months after the Sanctus deal. And now Nero thought he saw a Doppelganger of himself and was given the Yamato? Then went to Sparda's House for clues…? The only one who had the ability of looking like him was Vergil… "No…" Dante chuckled as he waved a hand in dismissal, "Impossible. Verge has our mother's amulet keeping him in check. He can't hurt those of Sparda's blood. Hell, he can't even wield the Yamato without being choked to death."

"So then Vergil sent the Yamato through the Doppelganger to Nero…that's not wielding the blade. Dante! Nero went to the house! He could be in trouble right now!"

"Look, ladies. Listen to me and listen well. Vergil can't leave the house without having the collar off of him or permission by those of the Sparda bloodline. Simple as that – oh fuck," Dante began casually but cut himself off, remembering that Nero's Devil Bringer reeked of his father's doing. "He wouldn't be that much of an idiot to let Vergil out would he?" Trish and Lady only exchanged a look of doubt before turning their gaze to Dante, waiting for some sort of silver lining. "Fuck…we need to get to the house and stop him. When did Nero leave?"

Trish lightly licked her lips before pursing them. Lady sighed and gave a small nod, "More than a week ago… I don't think Nero will be at the house."

Dante sank back into the chair, eyes staring blankly at the door. What on earth was Vergil planning by dragging Nero around on this wild goose hunt? What the hell was he after?

* * *

_Love it? Hate it? Tell me in a review!_


	7. birds of a feather pt 2

**summary: **_// _Post DMC 4 // _Nero liked the idea of playing hero and saving Dante's ass, but when did playing 'hero' suddenly mean asking help from a monstrous secret Dante has been hiding from Nero since day one? All things come with a price and Nero has a bad feeling that Vergil is going to request for more than just Yamato…_

**disclaimer: **I do not own Devil May Cry, Nero, Dante, Vergil, etc. I wish...

**feed me a box of words**  
**chapter seven:** birds of a feather pt. two  
**written by:** of wolves and dogs

"_You can't see the demons  
Till the demons come calling for you  
You're deaf to them screaming  
Till they're standing right behind you  
Blind to flames glowing  
Till thy're growing all around you  
Numb to fangs gripping  
Until they're ripping into you  
You're miles from safe harbor  
Run, run, run, run, run away  
The fire has reached starboard."_

_-_ Queen Anne's Revenge by Flogging Molly

* * *

_Pat. Pat. Pat._

"Tch…damn."

_Pat. Pat. Pat. _

Fingers lightly raked through sopping bangs as rain continued to fall from above, making sure to aim at his eyes whenever he would glance upward or tilt his head in a certain manner. Cursing the rain and everything in general, Nero trudged onward through the wet earth as he followed their new 'ringleader'. Eyes of luminescent blue burned in disgust at the archangel with his messy array of wild, crimson hair who moved with a strange gait that spoke of exhaustion. Instead of opening his mouth to shoot out a crude word and a few insults, he kept it shut. He swallowed his frustration and mimicked the façade of indifference that Vergil wore with perfection.

A glance at the older male told him that this mask of indifference bellied a cold, unfathomable fury consisting of tendrils of icy static. Nero did not miss Vergil's eyes trailing to his right as he looked back every ten minutes or so, as if they were passing the right path and it was calling to him. Telling him to stop and take the right road and all the hybrid could do was listen and nothing more. They were slowly but surely moving off course.

Nero ran a hand through his hair once more, noting dryly that Vergil's hair seemed impervious to the drizzle of water the heavens were crying out. "Let's rest for now…" Michael finally heaved out when he found the mouth of a petite cave formed by rocks merely pilling around each other. Nero knew for a fact that Michael was still exhausted from being stuck in that prison in Death and now traversing across the country. The archangel was an idiot if he thought he was doing good by pushing himself further away from their original path. The idiot was only wearing himself out even more, but who was he to care?

"Nero," Vergil murmured somewhere close to his ear, causing shivers to run across his body when warm air tickled the shell of his ear. Nero gave a nod in repeated weary and moved off – he knew the drill. Gather firewood for the asshole with red hair…but everything was wet around him, how did Vergil expect him to do such a feat? Growling in displeasure he searched around - more like kicking everything around him as he felt time tick away. He was losing time! He needed to get Dante's ass out of danger! He needed to save the asshole! It was the least he could do and this ass of an angel was fucking everything up in every way possible!

"Fucking prissy, ass fuckers from the sky," he barked out when he was a good distance away from the camp. Scratching his head furiously as he glared at the standing trees, he was about to ram his foot into the trunk of one nearby when someone gently cleared their throat. Whipping around, neck screaming at the movement, he found himself staring at the calm, collected face of Vergil…who was cocking an eyebrow at him in question. "Er…how long have you been here?" Nero asked in worried caution and Vergil only blinked at him, the silence speaking volumes. "How did you get over here – isn't Michael going to throw a hissy fit?" Nero asked to break the silence. The archangel threw these tantrums whenever the two went off or were remotely near each other in a 'suspicious manner'. The poor guy thought they were trying to plot his demise whenever he wasn't looking…which wasn't a bad idea actually…

"He is resting his eyes," Vergil answered and Nero gave a quiet nod. So Michael dozed off finally…now he can finally talk to Vergil about their new problem.

"I don't like him; can we dump him somewhere," Nero blurted out, eyes narrowing at the thought of the archangel. Vergil only closed his eyes, arms crossing across each other habitually as he inclined his head to the right.

"If you wish it. I shall do my best to do the deed." Well shit. Vergil made it sound like Nero was some asshole ordering others to kill the bastard! Didn't Vergil want to get rid of Michael too!? Why was he making it sound like he was the only one having murderous thoughts over here!?

Nero huffed and rubbed his forehead before sarcasm and dry humor tickled his vocal chords, "…want me to suffocate him or something when he's asleep?" Damn, they could kill the guy now if he was taking his little cat nap! Although…as much as he was suggesting these deathly ideas – literally – he could not see himself killing the archangel. Killing demons was his calling, not others. He hoped Vergil caught his sarcasm and it seemed the older male did.

"I'm sure that I can persuade him to leave…you are doing a good job so far. Continue to act hostile," Vergil mused as he opened his eyes, a lock of hair flopping downward onto his face. He gave a terse click of the tongue and proceeded with slicking it back like a cat that was cleaning itself. Nero only stood there for a moment, memorized by how much of a feline Vergil seemed to exude. Didn't help that Vergil had that collar on, either. _The Sparda family is into some weird shit, that's for sure. _Yet he couldn't help but feel that Vergil's diplomatic methods would not be…child-appropriate. In his mind's eye he once more saw Dante bursting from the glass ceiling of the church – massacring the Order's men and Sanctus…yet instead of Dante was Vergil. Shaking away the premonition of gore, he gave a nod.

"No problem-o," he sighed and he felt a smile grace his lips as he watched Vergil battle with his uncooperative hair. "You know, Verge – can I call you, Verge? – I can see this being the start of a beautiful relationship," Vergil's hand froze as his expression deadpanned as Nero went on, "You and I are destined to be together." A lopsided grin danced on Nero's face as the hybrid slowly dropped his hand, lips parting as Nero comfortably moved over to pat Vergil on the shoulder. If they were going to get out of this problem, then Nero felt he had to get rid of the whole business-partners routine… Plus, Vergil seriously needed to lighten up. He acted as if he had a stick and sandpaper shoved up his ass. He couldn't be grumpy all the time, could he? Plus he was Dante's twin! There had to be a fun, loving sense of humor in there!

"Please don't touch me," Vergil bit back coldly but Nero disobeyed the male and made a big show of touching his shoulder.

"You like me! Admit it."

Vergil breathed out heavily through his nostrils before throwing a stern look to Nero, like a teacher will to an unruly child. "Are you channeling Dante? Your stupidity is skyrocketing off the charts at the given moment," Vergil articulated with ease, causing Nero to chuckle and move away. God did he miss Dante. This trip was sucking away at his soul and the serious drama surrounding the air only shoved him further into the ground. He wanted his friend back and the thought made his insides ache. What if Dante was already dead? Just like what Vergil said before back at the House? Bringing back the dead was forbidden – it was unheard of – a taboo! Who knew what price he would have to pay if he brought back his friend – if he truly _was _dead.

So he forced a grin on his face to hide the ache as he stared at the familiar structure of Dante's face. "You and me baby ain't nothin' but mammals," he crooned out terribly and out of tune, "So let's do it like they do on the Discovery Chanel!" Channeling Dante? Sure. If it helped push aside the fact he was losing time and possibly a good friend – a brother figure at best – then so be it. Vergil would just have to –

"…remember what I said that one night? It still holds…I will slit your throat. Do be good and get dry firewood."

– deal with his antics.

_Vergil is just a ray of sunshine, isn't he?  
_

* * *

Nero came back with the wood, tempted more than once to just uproot a tree and toss it at Vergil's oversized brain and smartass mouth. The archangel was already roused from sleep, sitting groggily and almost in a confused stupor to see that the two were still in his presence. But Nero had a hunch that if they ever bolted that Michael would eventually find them and who knew what he was capable of when he is at his full strength. While Vergil's collar was tangible and visible, Michael's 'collar' was his current exhaustion. Mulling this over in his head, he found himself becoming the housewife to the two older men in the group. It was he who did the cooking. It was he who gathered the firewood. It was he who pretty much made sure everyone was fuckin' content and dandy. What was next? Wiping their goddamn asses!? Nero bit his tongue, frowning deeply as he kindled the flames into a warm steady show of heat. Last time he checked…he was the one who was in good health and not restrained by anything whatsoever. If Vergil is the fucking servant of Sparda – or whatever, shouldn't he be doing this shit?

Turning his head upward to voice this out to Vergil, he found the hybrid staring at him with eyes churning wild silver. Whatever words that were about to leave his lips instantly disintegrated into an intake of air as those eyes seemed to slay him. He felt his body become slack and it took every fiber of his being to keep him up as lips of pale salmon quirked into the makings of a smirk. Then before his very eyes he watched the left side of that stoic mouth turn upward into an open smirk, teeth of blinding white revealed, incisors shining in all their glory. A pink tongue hungrily escaped the cavern of a mouth to lick the underside of the upper jaw, a wolf relishing the taste of its future meal in his mouth. It was then that mouth of coy sadism mouthed out words that seemed to hiss out their cold poison into his ears.

_Shouldn't you be running? _

Nero blinked, choking on his own saliva, panic running through his head as he recalled when he took the collar off of Vergil. Yet in that brief millisecond that he blinked, he found Vergil's face a canvas of indifference and boredom, staring almost blankly at the fire. Blinking rapidly, trying to figure out if he made up the entire scene, he slowly flopped down onto the ground on his backside. Following Vergil's idea and staring blankly into the fire as his thoughts ran marathons in his head, ignoring the shadows being produced by the fire against the cave walls. There they flickered as one out of the three gave taunting grins and morphed into bizarre shapes till remaining poised on the wall like the rest.

The night was treacherously slow and it was thanks to a nearby river and his Devil Bringer did he catch some trout. If they were near the river that meant that they were half a day's journey away from the right path. Nero focused on not focusing on this fact and eating his meal, he wondered how on earth Vergil was going to persuade the asshole to go their way. Maybe Vergil will just knock the guy out and carry him the entire way? Or maybe he will use his archaic babble to eventually tire Michael out into agreeing with them. _Now that sounds like it just might work. _Yet through the entire night Vergil hardly said more than one word and Michael was too exhausted to even open his trap, lying on the ground like a corpse.

_Maybe he will do it tomorrow? _Or maybe Vergil might actually explain what he had planned so he could give a helping hand. Shaking his head, he too prepared himself for sleep as he rested his head on his pack. Tomorrow was a new day and hopefully it would turn out promising…hopefully. So without even saying goodnight or telling the others to burn in hell – it was turning into a ritual now before he went to sleep – he closed his eyes and dreamt of Fortuna.

Vergil remained awake, eyes of pale blue staring listlessly at the ceiling of the cave as his chest rose in a steady rhythm. They were losing precious time by this distraction but all things were necessary and all matters had reasons. This matter had a vital reason and purpose, and he was pleased to soon be over with this matter in the next hour or so. It all depended on how exactly he was going to carry this through. Usually – or more like always – he is meticulous in his work but he was at a slight disadvantage at the moment. He bore his mother's amulet which chained him into submission plus his prized possession was in the hands of a child. The odds were stacked up against him from the outside point of view.

Scratching his clothed abdomen, he slowly sat up as he gently cracked his neck, pushing his coat off of him. Folding it into a neat singular stack, he slowly rose to his feet and moved toward Michael with easy strides. The male was asleep but it was neither a deep sleep, for he could hear the angel's heart beat a tad too fast to fool him. Nudging the male, Michael stirred as eyes fluttered into sudden alertness, bright eyes glaring in instant furry. "We need to speak...but somewhere where we will not be…disturbed," Vergil mused out softly, head inclining toward Nero, signaling him as the 'disturbance'. Michael blinked before giving a nod, sloppily getting to his feet before shuffling out of the cave. Vergil followed behind like a sentinel, guarding the rear as his nose flared at the scent of another wave of oncoming rain. It was still a good half-hour away but the scent was tickling his nostrils.

The weather was perfect.

"What is it you want to speak of? Be quick because my patience runs thin," Michael spoke with visible annoyance, leaning against a tree.

Vergil lightly tilted his head as he lightly crossed his bare arms across his chest, bearing the masterfully-made navy vest. "I am afraid it is an affair that I will not be quick with…time is of the essence, and I will relish it," Vergil artfully responded and Michael stiffened at the words, muscles instantly tensing.

"You are going to kill me?"

"A deal is a deal," Vergil sighed, as if this was such a tiresome event and that he rather be doing something more worthwhile with his time.

Michael instead found this terribly amusing as he pushed himself off of the tree, roaring with laughter as he nodded his head in agreement. "Oh please, I would like to see you kill me. You mother is doing a good job restraining you, Vergil," jabbing a finger in the direction of the collar, "You can do nothing – not even harm a fly." Giving a snort in disbelief at the Son of Sparda, he lightly held his hand out, as if he was holding some invisible weapon or matter of the sort. Before Vergil's eyes he watched the area near the hand give a soft hum before a flicker of light formed a beautifully crafted rapier of transparent gold and crimson now in his hand. "I suppose I should just get rid of you now and forever, Vergil." Giving a nod, he charged forward as Vergil remained still and in place, those eyes of mutating silver and blue staring at Michael with amusement and pity. Swinging the sword downward at the hybrid, Vergil immediately ducked by crouching down low, fingers touching the wet ground. Placing his weight on his hands, his right leg swung over and swept Michael off of his feet. Sword flying in the air as Michael yelped in shock at the sudden movement, the hybrid's eyes turned to the weapon soaring in the air. Pushing off of the ground, his hand caught the sword by the handle before making an intricate slicing motion in the air as Michael fell with a soft thud onto the ground. Blinking dumbly at Vergil as he brought the sword down to his side, he wondered what on earth was the reason for doing such a thing? It was when he wondered such a question did locks of his own hair fall before his eyes in a slow crimson descent.

Vergil turned the sword so the hilt was facing Michael and tossed it in the angel's direction as he stared passionlessly down at the red-head. Michael couldn't have been more insulted at this show and his mouth was already grinding down his own teeth. Snatching his sword, he pushed himself up to his feet and lunged at the hybrid. Strangely enough, Vergil easily dodged the attack as his body more or less slipped out of Michael's targeting range. With a soft 'hmph' escaping the snow-haired demon, Michael once more lunged the sword forward. Yet instead of hitting flesh, it hit the trunk of a nearby tree. Before the archangel could yank the sword back, Vergil promptly moved in the way. Swearing under his breath, Michael swung a fist already hearing the crack of Vergil's jaw in his mind. Yet Vergil's left hand reached out, grabbing the inside of Michael's arm where the elbow formed, stalling any movement from that arm as he closed the distance between them. Michael was unable to move or retaliate as Vergil's right arm bent inward, so his elbow was visible, the elbow soon violently cutting across Michael's face. The bone smacked roughly against the jaw, the initial strike sending stars shinning in the archangel's vision as the elbow came back – ramming into the other side of his jaw. The bony tips of the elbow dished out a double dosage of unadulterated pain as Michael staggered back, nearly losing his balance as he cupped his jaw.

"H-How can you be doing this!? What about the collar!?" Michael managed to get out through his sore jaw, already tasting the blood the mouth as it dripped past his lips and down his throat.

"You assume that the collar will leave me incapable of fighting back whatsoever. You are right in a way – for I cannot injure those who bear the same blood in my veins whether it is a mere drop or pumped gallons," Vergil explained casually as he felt a drop of water hit his palm, not even bothering to look up. It was beginning to drizzle once more although the scent in the air made him quite aware that this drizzle will soon turn into a full-fledged storm. "Sadly for you…you and I do not share the same blood," he finished with a serene expression on his face, causing Michael to only bristle as he righted himself up.

"You have no reason to kill me, Son of Sparda. I mean you no harm – what you have done, you have brought upon yourself," Michael reasoned as he pointed the sword at Vergil, eyes narrowed into thin slits. "You don't need to do this."

"A deal is of no deal…if I cannot deliver, Michael," came the response once more but Michael did not pay any heed to the words as he charged forward, a guttural sound escaping him. Slashing wildly at the hybrid, the hybrid easily moved out of the way each and every time as he found himself backing up. When the archangel's guard slipped, Vergil moved forward, body jumping forth to slam his knee onto the underside of the exposed chin. Michael reeled backward, falling onto his backside as Vergil landed gracefully onto the ground.

Thunder boomed above them as rain began to suddenly strengthen and quicken.

"Tch," Michael hissed as he wiped the blood from his mouth, eyes a vibrant shade of luminescent green, "I should have guessed as much…your stupid mother's amulet is useless as her."

Eyes of incandescent blue slowly turned downward to Michael as Vergil's face remained emotionless and stoic like an ice block. Without a word leaving his mouth, he moved forward on silent feet, ignoring the fact his locks of hair were threatening to flop down on his face. Reaching downward, his left hand flexed before latching around the red-head's neck. Pulling him up to his feet and suspending him in air, his grip began to slowly tighten as Michael's hands struggled to pry his fingers off of his neck. "For an angel…you have no control or filter over that mouth of yours," Vergil breathed out gently as his grip tightened, nails digging into the skin as he tapped into the demonic energy still being held back by the collar. Snarling at this restraint, his eyes narrowed as he ignored the gasping and choking angel. He needed to break the restraint – just this once.

Hissing, nostrils flaring at the barricades and barriers placed before him, he fought against the hold. If he could not use his demonic powers regardless if blood-related or not, then this would be more of a pain to get rid of this nuisance. The instant he slammed against the barricades, the collar tightened on cue, making him give out a choked gasp. Michael gave a strangled chuckle as he felt Vergil's grip on him lessen, "Your family has you on a short leash there, Vergil." Gritting his teeth, he refused to release the archangel that was now becoming more and more smug.

_There are always ways and methods to counteract and trick a spell. What would trick this one? _If the collar's main purpose was to protect the Sparda lineage and restrain him from doing them harm… Eyes of pale blue seemed to grow so faint till it could be mistaken as shinning orbs of gray as water continued to fall down in a downpour. _So if I perceive Michael as a threat to Nero – to the Sparda bloodline – and I assumed the role of 'protecting', than what can the collar do to restrain me? Nothing. _With steady eyes, his mind began to whip up terrible images of Michael desecrating Nero as if he was nothing but mince meat (which rather came to him quite easily). Without further ado, the collar instantly slackened and he gently took in the wet air.

"Give your brother…my regards as you pass through," Vergil sneered, looking upon Michael as if he was a bug. Before Michael could snarl out an insult, the humanoid hand around his neck did a quick change before his skin. A now clawed hand dug into his skin, causing the archangel to suddenly panic as they broke skin as those words sunk into his head. Eyes flashed toward Vergil, realization seizing them and before he could scream out his venomous words, Vergil closed his hand as completely as he could. Wings ejected out, flapping furiously yet weakly as the sympathetic nervous system kicked in for the angel, yet Vergil kept a firm grip.

Vergil's right eyelid twitched when a droplet smacked his eye, as he watched Michael gasp and choke his last breaths. The rain did a good job on watering down the blood that was slipping through his fingers profusely. Giving a firm shake, whisking away Michael's last breath, he waited till the angel's head of damp crimson hung forward. Releasing Michael, fingers stuck in the man's neck, he finally pried his hand off as he gently examined it, a terrible sucking sound filling the air when they passed flesh.

There the body dribbled out its life's liquid and he was amused at the color of the blood… For it was a beautiful golden color, as if stars were melted into his veins and breathing in him life. Washing his hand in the rain, he gave his regular disinterested expression that spoke of rising boredom.

_So my mother's amulet has a flaw…a useful tidbit of information for the future…_Turning his head in the direction of camp, he gave a soft 'hmph' in thought.

* * *

Nero woke up from his dream of warm ocean water and sunny skies to find himself staring at the dreary ceiling of stone and makeshift shadows. Frowning, he slowly rubbed the sleep out of his eyes as he sat up. First he realized his back ached like hell and maybe it was the fact he managed to roll off of his designated area and on the cold floor. Second of all he realized he was near a certain other's designated sleeping area. Peering down to his right, he stared at locks of pure white –as if the color was stolen by bathed doves ripe for flight that hung downward and tickled the bridge of a porcelain nose. Even in sleep, a look of breathtaking control danced on the hybrid's face as lips of salmon were slightly parted.

Vergil…was oddly beautiful in the faint morning light that streamed from the cave's entrance as he slept on the set out blankets, his own pure-white coat draped over his body. Nero knew his Devil Bringer kept him warm and heated – like his own personal furnace, but he wondered what kept Vergil so warm at night. _Although I'm sure he was warm last night seeing you made sure to roll over and attend to him_, his mind tossed out in a snarky intonation, causing him to suck in the air violently and nearly choke.

Shaking his head furiously, he focused on cracking his back and as he twisted his body to do so, he noticed that their group of three was missing a rude and insufferable member. No, it wasn't Nero – he was quite present. Nero blinked in confusion at the fact that Michael vanished from camp completely. Whatever traces of him – like the borrowed blanket, and so forth, were gone. Strangely enough he couldn't even smell Michael's scent and all he could catch was Vergil's scent of chai, incense and rain. Already it was making him heady and he forced himself to get away and onto his feet. Pulling his jacket closer around him, he peered around in curiosity before mumbling his thoughts out, "Did he leave?"

"Yes."

Nero yelped in shock at the sound of Vergil's voice that suddenly broke through his silence. Turning toward the older male, he found him still lying down in place, but eyes of diluted blue stared at him with a cat-like curiosity. "He left on his own accord…I'm afraid my charming words strangled him senseless," he exhaled, sounding more like a pleasant purr as Vergil stretched like a languid feline. Nero only blinked, feeling his cheeks oddly and randomly burn in a strange way as he stared at the hybrid, before bursting into a full-fledged grin. God, he knew Vergil could do it! _Did I ever doubt? Nope! _And so soon too! Honestly, if it wasn't for Vergil he would still be in a shit load of trouble and confusion.

"HAH! I knew that son of a bitch would fly off!" Nero proclaimed, proudly puffing out his chest as Vergil merely rolled his eyes and sat up. "So where to now, sidekick?" Nero mused as he bounded toward the male, making himself at home by sitting beside the half-demon. Vergil gave a soft 'hmph' in amusement as his lips curled into a half-smirk at the title. Sidekick? Oh my…was Nero now his Othello? _I suppose that makes me Iago…how fitting. _

"Since we are about half a day's journey off course, we will have to cut across to the west to get back on track," Vergil began thoughtfully, "If we make good time and reach the small town, which is a five hour journey away from Smyrna, by nightfall… We can rest there for the night, I suppose – "

"Yes," Nero blurted out in fiery determination, "I'm sick of sleeping on the floor. I want a bed for once."

"Clean up then and eat something before we head off. The path will not be an easy one," Vergil advised as he arose to his feet and sauntered out of camp to who knows where. Nero gave a hopeless sigh at Vergil before rummaging through his pack for something to eat. At least now he knew he could fully put his trust into Vergil and he couldn't wait to laugh and taunt Dante when he saves his ass.

"I'm almost there…"

"Are we there yet?" Nero huffed out two hours later, his body already sore from unsteady inclination and fall of the path they were creating by hand. Vergil only gave him a look that clearly said, 'Don't you _dare_ ask me again'. Nero pursed his lips and followed after Vergil obediently and it was when they made a turn into a clearing did he find himself coming to a slow halt.

He stared at the fresh sea of snow that has been untouched, and he felt a childish urge to just flop down in the snow. Staring at Vergil who only seemed to move on forward with the mentality of some cold-hearted robot, Nero cracked a wry grin and rubbed his hands together. Screw being serious for a moment. He was going to take a break and enjoy himself for at least a few minutes. Dropping his pack in silence, his muscles seemed to ready themselves eagerly. Giving out a hoot in joy, startling Vergil and causing him to hiss and recoil like a cat that just had its tail stepped on; Nero loped forward and bounded through the untouched snow. Without further ado, he stood in place before flopping backwards. Lying on the freshly fallen snow, he gave a chuckle as he lightly moved his arms and legs, creating a sloppy snow angel.

_I wish Kyrie could be here… We don't get this kind of snow back in Fortuna. The snow is always packed…_

Turning his gaze toward Vergil, he found him starting at him as if he just grew two heads and foamed from the mouth. Nero scoffed and lightly flicked snow at Vergil before patting the area beside him. "Come on, tall, dark and gruesome. Five minute break and then you can go back to acting like there is a stick up your ass," Nero cooed out, crooking his finger and causing Vergil's cold eyes to narrow into dangerous slits.

"Excuse me!?" Vergil spat out, but Nero only crooked his finger once more before patting the area beside him in encouragement. Vergil huffed in defiance before grudgingly moving forward, his body gracefully taking its place beside him. Nero had no idea how the hell Vergil was able to do things like that, because Dante tended to have brash and sloppy movements when he wasn't in battle. Shaking his head, he lightly reached behind him and drew Red Queen out, lightly placing it beside him. The sword was digging into his back and now feeling it gone, he relaxed in the cold snow, his Devil Bringer warming his body whenever it became chilled.

Turning his head toward Vergil, he found the older male staring hard at the sky as if he was in a silent dispute with it. Nero chuckled, finding himself to quite enjoy the grumpy aura Vergil seemed so good at keeping up. "It's beautiful, eh? The sky," Nero mused as Vergil responded with an undecipherable hum. Silence soon fell between the two as Nero felt himself slowly doze off, dark lashes contrasting against his paled skin of cream.

"Nero, may I ask you something?" the words were quiet yet commanding power rested underneath the words with a steady sense of control, as ice dripped out of every word that continued to leave the hybrid's lips. Nero turned his head toward Vergil, his own eyes of a brighter blue staring in growing curiosity. Vergil kept his gaze upward as Nero gave a nod, not realizing that Vergil would not be able to see this gesture. Yet the hybrid went on, "How did you obtain your arm?"

Nero instantly stiffened at the question but kept his gaze on Vergil, eyes hardening at the conversation soon to commence. He felt uncomfortable and nearly insulted whenever someone brought up his arm – feeling like a lab rat and nothing more. Expecting to watch Vergil examine and study his arm like Agnus, he instead found Vergil in the same position and exuding a casual calm aura. He didn't even bother to turn and look at him whatsoever… Nero felt himself slowly become relaxed as he blinked in quiet question. The hybrid wasn't expressing the common traits seen in those interested in his arm. "I'm not sure…as far as I can remember, I always had it. But…I know I wasn't born with it – my gut just tells me that somewhere in my life I got this arm. I'm not sure why or how, but it's been with me…the only thing I can remember…everything else is just a blur," he lightly rambled as he adjusted himself in the snow.

"What exactly is your arm capable of?"

Nero pursed his lips in thought as he stared quietly at the sky before talking once more. "I can grab what may be impossible to grab for others – distance- and substance-wise. Demonic strength, tapping into Death, aware of when demons are around…and the list goes on." It felt good to get it off of his chest – to just talk about his arm and not be judged. Vergil didn't show a hint of bizarre interest in the arm and in all it felt as if the older male was just trying to make conversation. Now that made him smirk as he turned to the hybrid to see him still in place, his locks of hair blending into the snow.

"Man! I still cannot believe Dante has a twin! And complete opposites too!" Nero exclaimed in rapture, to break the silence. Vergil only gave a noncommittal snort as Nero continued on, "Or are you secretly a manwhore? You seem pretty good with that mouth of yours" – it was now Vergil's turn to turn his head toward Nero and give a silent look of warning with raised brows – "so I bet you get all the girls or whatever!"

Vergil gave a nod, a mock look of amazement, "Mmm, close…but no cigar." Sarcasm drenched his words as he kept his eyes pinned on Nero. "I don't toss myself onto others like a hormonal teenager in heat. I have something called self preservation and respect."

Nero gave a scoff in reply as he lightly shifted his body in the snow, casting his eyes up to the sky, "So let me get this straight…you are pretty good with words, but you don't use it for any good use… Well come on, Verge! If you can persuade an archangel to leave, then shit! Imagine what else you can persuade others to do!"

Vergil just stared in silence for a good moment or two, tempted to burst out in laughter at how exactly right Nero was. He could persuade _anyone_ to do as he pleased if he put his mind to it. Michael was a different story entirely, he just added brute force into his method of persuasion and the case was solved. So what made Nero truly believe he hadn't persuaded him onto this chase? What a complete idiot. Yet he couldn't help but internally give a smile – ignorance was bliss, not onto the ignorant but upon the manipulators. Here was this perfect vessel who lived in naivety all his life – only knowing of corruption and lies through that one incident with Sanctus. Other than that he was a clean slate – truly untarnished and here Vergil was…the shining light of corruption and deceit.

"I'm afraid…my persuasive techniques are not exactly highly looked upon," Vergil replied back, mirth tickling his words as he lightly scratched the space near his collar. Nero rolled his eyes, oblivious to Vergil's movements as he kept his eyes locked to the sky. "Now, if you may, please contain your childish antics and get up. We are wasting precious time," Vergil added as he pushed himself onto his feet, the snow clinging onto him desperately. It was just like that. Nero would catch glimpses of a Vergil who was not preaching order, rules, and rigid standards throughout his entire being. Before he could even fully relish these moments, they fade away into nothing. Following suite and pushing himself upward, he began brushing himself off. As he glowered at the snow for Vergil being so incomprehensible, Vergil stared curiously at the sky as Fallens cut through the sky, heading west.

"You sure you don't need the map?" Nero inquired as he shouldered on his pack. Vergil gave a gentle nod as he began to walk on.

"No. We continue to head west."

* * *

_Love it? Hate it? Tell me in a review._

**a/n: So my loyal readers, I have a little question. Here it is: "Vergil x Nero"? And now here are you choices for answers: A) So? What about it? B) I think you dropped in enough 'hints' on Nero's side about it all! So stop teasing us and get to it! C) Smut. Now. Yo. Dawg. D) I'm not sure how you put this in the calculator...how do you multiply this again?  
Okaayyy! Now answer.....NOW! :) I'm curious of the responses because I want to know what you - as the readers- think of the pairing and also expect of the story. Because my next chapter can be written in two different ways, and I don't want to write it those two different ways and everyone going, "WHY YOU DO THAT?" Haha! My love goes to you all.**


	8. a coalition with devils

**summary: **_// _Post DMC 4 // _Nero liked the idea of playing hero and saving Dante's ass, but when did playing 'hero' suddenly mean asking help from a monstrous secret Dante has been hiding from Nero since day one? All things come with a price and Nero has a bad feeling that Vergil is going to request for more than just Yamato… _

_**disclaimer: **I do not own Devil May Cry, Nero, Dante, Vergil, etc. I wish..._

**_a/n: Ah! Well hello there readers! I'm glad that you all took time to review and give me their vote! After much talking and debating, I have decided that canon would be best. Let's keep it canon for now! Sorry to all the others who voted differently! Ha ha ha! Don't worry - a time will come. Anyway, read and enjoy this next addition to the story._**

**feed me a box of words**  
**chapter eight:** a coalition with devils  
**written by:** of wolves and dogs

_**"**High up on you,  
You display good traits though few__**,  
**We found time alone will tell__**,  
**This disease keeps holding me down**.**  
Wish I had your faults__**,  
**Nothing seems to phase you__**,  
**Lies**,** you**'**re much more than just human**."**_

- _An Evening With El Diablo_ by Chevelle

* * *

There were seven Gates in all, and all of them were broken or severely cracked, though Nero felt a pang of nervous tension every time they left the ambience of one and moved to another, a stark picture always flashing into his head – the bloodstained Gate at Swallowtail's Beak.

The last Gate stood on the edge of a pine forest that was draped in snow, atop a granite buff fifty yards high, marking the forest's eastern edge and the end of high ground. Standing by a shattered Gate, Nero got the impression that these Gates were not destroyed by another. Instead he got the sensation that these Gates were premature and that in their prematurity they crumbled under their own weight. Someone was trying to resurrect Hell Gates but they didn't have the sacrifice of blood and energy into it, thus their downfall. Nero wasn't sure if he should take solace in the fact that whoever did so was sacrifice-less or panic at the fact that someone was trying to summon Gates by the masses. Looking out beside the stone, to their left they could see the large expanse of the sea with waters as gray as the entire situation. Yet directly beneath them were the flat, sunken fields of a farming village, maintained by a network of canals, pumps and dykes.

"The fields are flooded," Nero commented as he stared down at the heavily saturated ground, crops already long gone by winter. His eyes flickered in the direction of the village not too far away, and he waited for some sort of smoke drifting in the air of someone cooking, or lights in a house. There was none…the village was dark from where he stood. Windmills, power for the pumps, stood silent in the distance as Mother Nature began to coat the entire area with her frosty kiss.

"There are no people in the fields, nor are there people on this side of the village," Vergil mused out, as if tasting his words and finding them all fascinating in their own way. Nero gave a nod, Vergil's eyes were probably keener than any telescope. "There must be a Gate somewhere nearby that is open and in use," he added after an afterthought, fingers scratching the left side of his cheek in nonchalance.

Nero gave another nod as he closed his eyes, allowing a faint breeze to tickle his nostrils. "We should head down there…something smells wrong – I can smell death," Nero offered as he opened his eyes, two orbs of bright blue turning to his Devil Bringer for answers. It confirmed his thoughts by pulsing in a steady rhythm. Vergil tilted his head to the right, a feline gesture as he stared at the scene. It almost looked as if the demonic arm and Nero were two separate beings conversing through a foreign and silent tongue only made aware in the teenager's skull. Interest sparked in his eyes but he kept himself at bay with his mouth routinely shut, orbs of diluted blue turning to the village.

There was a built-up path through the flooded fields, but it was submerged to ankle-depth, with an occasional thigh-high slippages. Only the raised canal drains stood well above the brackish water, so Vergil and Nero were forced to wade along the path as the canals ran in the opposite direction of the village. Vergil stared critically at the water at first before entering, nostrils flaring in disgust and Nero just watched in pure amusement. Nero was dead certain that Vergil was some sort of housecat in his past life as he eyed the water with distaste, not enjoying the idea of having to wade into the muddy water.

Water and mud, coupled with an uncertain path, made their journey slow. Vergil seemed unaffected by the freezing temperature the water was at, while Nero could feel the icy water soak into his clothes and then his skin. It took an hour to cover less than a mile, so it was later in the afternoon than Nero would have wished when they finally climbed out of the water, up onto the beginnings of the village's rocky mount. _At least the sky is clear…_ Nero thought out in quiet relief, glancing upward. The winter sun wasn't particularly hot and couldn't be described as glaring, but it would provide as a good source of light and give them a good advantage over any demons lurking in the shadows of the houses.

Nevertheless, they walked carefully up to the village, Red Queen in hand as Vergil lazily strolled in the rear. The path wound up in a series of steps carved from the rock, reinforced here and there with bricks and mortar. About thirty cozy brick cottages, with opal wood-tile roofs stood on the top. Yet the entire area was drenched in silence, save for the random howl of the wind or the cry from a bird above. Nero drew closer to Vergil, walking almost shoulder-to-shoulder up what passed for a main street. Nero's eyes flickered across closed doors and shuttered windows, feeling uneasy, nervous – a nasty sensation slithering up his left arm that made his entire body shudder. His arm felt the presence of demons, hiding in the darkness, lurking somewhere nearby in a house.

At the end of the main street, on the highest point of the bluff, a Hell Gate stood on a patch of lawn covered with overgrown weeds that have been crushed by winter. The Gate was in good condition as it was covered with a thin layer of snow. Nero squinted as he saw a shape crumpled by the front of the Gate and he quickly made it out to be a body. His pace slowed down considerably but Vergil continued with his own pace, reaching the body before him. A body lay in front of the Gate, hands and feet bound, neck sliced so the head hung backward at a terrible angle, a clear sign of where the blood mainly left the body. Vergil merely tilted his head like a curious cat, crouching downward, a hand bearing a fingerless glove running over the air above the body. A soft hum escaped him as he pulled his hand back, "Three days old…" Nero wasn't about to ask how the hell he figured that out, he didn't want to know. Swallowing the lump in his throat, he turned to the Gate. He could feel the coldness of Death and the fiery heat of the Underworld itself as it singed his soul. This man was sacrificed to open this Gate and in turn, the man's corpse was a small pathway leading to Death – who knew what was lurking inside those pathways let alone the large gapping pathway the Hell Gate formed.

Vergil turned his gaze back to the houses as he stood up, nostrils flaring slightly as cold, dispassionate eyes focused on one in particular. Nero crouched by the body, Devil Bringer reaching out to gently drag down the eyelids over shell-shocked eyes frozen in time. He could only hope that whoever died would go through a safe journey to the final gate and not come back as a demon, twisted by the temptations Death brought to the dead.

"We should move on," Vergil informed, breaking the silence as Nero stood up.

"But the Gate – we need to destroy it!" Nero countered, Vergil turning his head toward Nero, those piercing eyes pinning him in place. "I can't risk other demons coming out – we have time to destroy this Gate," Nero bit back sharply, causing Vergil to emit a low growl in his throat only to have the collar tighten, making the growl cut short. Shaking his head he turned back to his watchful gaze over the houses as Nero gave a heavy exhalation through his nostrils in satisfaction. Holding his Devil Bringer out, he summoned out Yamato, the sword not at all resisting his control as he held it in his demonic arm. Eyeing the Gate, he circled around it first before spotting a good spot to attack. Without another word, he sliced at the Gate.

A piercing cry filled the air when force met the Gate and Nero thought it was the Gate at first as he sliced again, but to his dismay it was only the demons lurking about. The minute Nero made injury to the Gate, the demons burst from the house Vergil had been eyeing the entire time. The hybrid moved forward on silent feet toward the rushing attackers as Nero hastily finished off the Hell Gate. It shuddered with a heavy groan, as it began to crumble, Nero making his way toward the scene. It seemed the weaponless hybrid, with the added restraint around his neck, was handling the situation quite find. Nero marveled at the way the hybrid was two steps in front of his attackers, body moving like water itself before bone-cracking kicks dissolved the demons into ash.

Nero finished off the wave with a sweep of Yamato, causing Vergil to stare in silence at his sword. Blinking he turned his head away as he turned back to the area in front of him, "We need a boat to get to our next destination before nightfall – in other words, we need to find the harbor," Vergil informed as he lightly ran a hand through his hair, "They come. We should hurry, this place has already been stolen by demons."

Nero hissed in frustration, furious that they were going to let these demons live – these demons who probably killed and destroyed hundreds of lives and families in this village. Giving one last look at the houses, he followed after Vergil at a jog, unable to match his quick and long strides. The harbor lay on the northern side of the bluff, reached by another series of steps in the rocky hill, or in the case of cargo, via one of the shear-legged hoists that lined the edge of the bluff. Not too far off, hidden by the rocks was a smaller island closer to the shore, but Nero had his eyes on the harbor at the given moment. Yet there were no boats moored in the harbor, tied up to the jetties, or at the harbor wall. Pursing his lips, he lightly threaded his fingers behind the back of his head. "What now?"

"There are people on the island," Vergil said, eyes slitted against the wind, "And boats tied up between the two outcrops of rock on the southwest."

Nero looked, but saw nothing, till he extracted the binoculars from the pack. Taking them out, he stared through them, and saw that Vergil was right. There were several boats partly hidden between two spurs of rock, and some slight signs of habitation: a glimpse of a washing line, blown around the corner of a tall rock; the momentary sight of movement between two of the six wooden buildings. So people were alive – maybe the village was not the grounds of pure slaughter after all.

Shifting his gaze to the breakwater, Nero followed its length. As he'd half expected, there was a gap in the very middle of it, where the sea rushed through with considerable force. A pile of timber on the island side of the breakwater indicated that there had once been a bridge there, now removed. "It looks like they fled to the island," he said, putting the binoculars away.

"We should move quickly…the weather does not look kindly upon us," Vergil muttered, Nero turning his head to see that in the distance clouds rolled in. This was the calm before the storm, this good weather and clear skies were just a ploy. And when the weather takes destructive turns, demons appear and thrive in it all. Without further urging, he set off down the steps, down to the harbor side, then along to the breakwater. Vergil would glance behind him every so often, aware of the demons slithering out of the houses on nimble feet, their panting quite clear to his acute hearing.

The gap in the breakwater proved to be at least fifteen feet wide, and the water was twice Nero's height, the sea surging through with a rough aggression. It was also covered by gunners from the island, as they discovered when a bullet struck the stones in front of them and slopped into the sea.

"What the fuck!" Nero barked out as he brought his Devil Bringer up, the demonic arm merely deflecting a bullet as he more or less felt Vergil bristle beside him. The hybrid barred his teeth in offence at this welcome as he could feel the collar loosen on his neck, but it was not nearly enough to aid him right now. Hissing in distress, he eyed Blue Rose and felt his insides get sick at the idea of even touching the weapon…but… "Fucking assholes! This is the worst welcoming party – hey! I like this jacket! I like it without holes!"

"Nero – in front of me," Vergil ordered and Nero glanced at Vergil who now held Blue Rose, eyes trained on its first target. His collar tightened in warning, refusing to let him take the life of a civilian, so he felt his aim dropping. Without another word, he pulled the trigger, the first gunner's gun being shot out of his hand as a cry in pain filled the air at the movement. Nero's Devil Bringer took the other bullets with ease as Vergil one-by-one shot the gunners' guns out of their hands. The hybrid had impeccable aim as he handed back Nero Blue Rose as if it was some disease-ridden animal, Nero only staring at Vergil with awe.

While this was taking place – Nero felt his Devil Bringer give a soft glow, he could sense demons inside but they were hiding. Weak and young, residing deep inside and playing possum.

"Hold your fire! We are friends!" Nero shouted out.

There was no reply, but he could hear the gunners gathering up their guns and reloading.

"Shit – Vergil, what's the village leader's title – usually, I mean? What are they called?" Nero whispered hurriedly to Vergil, once again wishing he paid attention in school and history class.

"Elder, for this size of village."

"We wish to speak with your Elder!" Nero shouted and in the back of his head he snickered as he wished he could have said, 'Take me to your leader!' But he couldn't find the energy to laugh and share this with Vergil, who was busy doing something with his hair right now… "What the hell are you doing?" Nero hissed through barely parted lips as he watched Vergil ruffle and tussle his usual slicked back hair.

"Wait!" one of the gunners called out as one scrambled off into the distance and Nero gave a sigh in relief.

Yet Nero's eyes remained on Vergil's who hair now hung in front of his face, looking just like Dante himself. All that was missing was Dante's famous smirk and Nero wouldn't have known the difference. "What the heck is the point of this!?" Nero asked softly, Vergil gave a careful nod to the gunners that were a good distance away.

"You will see soon enough," came Vergil's usual cryptic response.

The gunner returned in a few minutes, an older man hobbling over the rocks behind him. The other three gunners, seeing him, lowered their weapons. The Elder was named in fact, as well as title, they saw, as he limped along the breakwater. Long white hair blew like fragile cobwebs around his thin, wrinkled face as he moved with slow and laborious strides. Yet despite his fragile appearance, he bore eyes that were unafraid of what laid ahead.

"Who are you? He asked, when he reached the gap, standing above the swirling waters like some prophet of legend, his deep purple cloak flapping around him from the rising breeze. "What do you want?" Nero hastily tugged his sleeve down over his Devil Bringer – better to be cautious for now, especially if everyone was trigger-happy on this island.

Nero opened his mouth to answer, but Vergil had already started to speak. Loudly. "I am Dante, Son of Sparda and this is Nero, Captain of the Order of the Sword. Are bullets your welcome for such folk as we?"

Nero's jaw dropped as Vergil finished up, staring at the older male as if he just grew horns and wings while conversing in Arabic to the elderly man. Vergil was going to pretend he was Dante!? Why!?

The old man was silent for a moment, his deep-set eyes focused on Nero, as if he could strip away any falsity or illusion by sight alone. Nero wondered idly why the hell he was busy staring at him and not at Mr. Liar right beside him. The old man cleared his throat to speak and spat into the water. For a moment, he thought that this was his response, but as neither the gunners nor Vergil reacted, it was obviously of no account. "These are bad times," the Elder sighed, "We have been forced to leave our homes for the smoking sheds, warmth and comfort for sea-winds and the stench of fish. Many are dead – or worse."

"I am not familiar of the Order of the Sword, but I am familiar of Sparda, as is the good deeds done by you, Dante," the man added as he turned to look at Vergil, whose lips pulled back into a smirk that only made Nero blink dumbly. It really did look like he was staring at Dante himself… "Come on, you four. Quick with the bridge. We have visitors! Help at last! Please cross quickly. There are many fell creatures in the village now, and I fear the day is almost done."

True to his words, cloud-shadow fell across them as he spoke, and the fresh scent of closing rain mingled with the wet and salty smell of the sea.

* * *

All the survivors were gathered in the largest of the fish-smoking sheds, save for the current shift of gunners who watched the breakwater. There had been one hundred and thirty-one villagers the week before – now there were twenty-nine. "There were thirty until this morning," the Elder informed Vergil as he passed the both of them a cup of passable wine and a piece of dried fish atop a piece of very hard and stale bread. Vergil's face was unreadable, but Nero could feel waves of Vergil's unimpressed aura and he couldn't help but shake his head and smirk into his cup. "We thought we were safe when we got to the island, but Rosemary's boy was found just after dawn today, sucked dry like a husk. When we touched him…he…he was like paper – he became ash…"

Nero felt the wine burn his throat as the information was also taken in. "We are glad that the Son of Sparda is here, though," the Elder smiled as he turned to Vergil who sat like an elegantly-crafted statue, the cup of wine held in one hand as his meal lay untouched on the plate before him. "We know the stories of your father and we have heard even more stories of your greatness, Dante. It is good to finally meet you – our answers have finally been answered," he finished warmly. Nero's eyes flickered to Vergil who gave a casual shrug of the shoulders.

"Think nothing of it. It is good to help others in need," the words were drenched so heavily in sarcasm and irony that Nero nearly choked on his food. Everyone in the room seemed far from understanding the sarcastic words as Vergil flashed a sardonic smile.

Feeling his insides twist into a knot of anticipation, he turned his attention to the survivors in the room. He couldn't stand to listen to Vergil feed the entire room his perfectly wrapped box of lies. Eyes scanned the mass, with their crusted clothes from the sea and their sunburned faces. His Devil Bringer was humming inside of him as his eyes turned to a certain section. The demon was there…wearing the skin of a survivor, just like the soldiers from the Order of the Sword back in Fortuna. Licking his lips, he kept his eyes focused on the area.

"We know of the perils you face and the victories to come after. We understand you must go through so much, especially dealing with that disaster of a brother," a gunner supplied beside the Elder. "Although the stories always claim you are unrefined! Yet here you are and proving them wrong!" the man laughed, the others joining in.

Vergil tilted his head to the right as he smiled laughingly in response, "The price of stories – they lack much truth at times."

"Wise words, Son of Sparda. Now please, we know we ask much, but will you be able to help us?" the Elder asked softly.

Vergil scratched the underside of his jaw, fingers itching to brush aside the magnolia-white locks out of his eyes. "We believe there is a demon in this room – two to be exact. One is in this room, the other is roaming outside," Vergil mused, causing Nero to give a nod as he stood to his feet and began to walk around the room. "As for the mainland? I am afraid – like you said before – it is lost." The Elder gave a heavy sigh as he bowed his head, fingers forming a steeple as the others closed their eyes in silent distress.

Careful not to alert his quarry, Nero made a zigzag through the shack, his Devil Bringer humming softly underneath his sleeve. Vergil gently rose to his feet, brushing himself off as his bright eyes already pinpointed the demon in the room. The demon flinched at the gaze and before Nero could near his target, the demon lunged out, the skin of the human disintegrating to reveal the lurking creature. The two of them ignored the screams from the villagers around them but the demon reacted to them by giving out a high-pitched squeal. Lunging forward, Nero readied to crush the demon, but at the last moment the creature made his way to the exit. It was planning on running.

"Stay with them, the second one may come," Vergil's voice filled the air as his words were directed to Nero. Turning his head to Vergil, he found the male already out the door and pursuing the demon on silent feet. Nero gave a shaky nod and remained put, his human hand touching the palm of his Devil Bringer as it pulsed gently.

When Vergil burst out of the shack, he was prepared for the onslaught of rain that fell from the heavens. Already he could feel the hair become drenched in water, his fingers running through his hair and pushing it back. Giving a pleased hum, he darted toward the scent of the demons, feeling the two meet somewhere in the middle of this island. Quickening his pace he finally saw two dark shapes in the distance, feeling his own pace slow down to a casual stroll. Flicking another strand out of his hair, he stared at a demon that more or less resembled a deformed dog with a broken jaw, tongue lolling out lazily. The second demon reeked of rotten flesh and bearing the disguise of a youth with damp blonde hair, eyes a vivid gold.

The blonde crowed out in laughter as his hands rested on his hips, the body tilted forward a few centimeters, "Well, well, well…look who decided to show up. I'll be your guide for the day."

"They are gone?" Nero asked as Vergil entered the shack ten minutes later. He gave a nod to Nero's statement and the entire village erupted into cheers and whoops of relief. Nero grinned but Vergil looked like he wouldn't mind a good crucification if it meant enduring the sound of these morons.

"We need to leave now, though. We need a boat; the longer we stay, the more attention we attract," Vergil advised and the Elder gave a solemn nod, as he murmured to the others around him.

"We will give you a boat and some food for your journey. It is the least we can do to thank you."

* * *

Nero made sure that Vergil steered through the now violent waters as the storm growled and boomed around them. It seemed that Vergil was capable of seeing through the dark and that only made him wonder how the hell Vergil was capable of so many things. Was there nothing impossible for the hybrid? Even pretending to be another was so well-done that he fooled an entire village into thinking he was his other half.

Rubbing his eyes, he already had his hood pulled over his head, being zero help whatsoever in this journey at the moment. Even when he asked if he could be some aid, Vergil gave a simple shrug of his shoulders and nothing more. Grumbling under his breath, he made sure to occupy himself in the dry area of the boat, pulling the tarp over him and glaring glumly at everything in general. This weather stunk, plus it was still cold as hell!

The waters gradually began to calm as he barely heard Vergil approach him, slicking his hair back. "You should rest," Vergil spoke and through the thunder and chaos, Nero somehow heard him loud and clear. Before he could protest, Vergil's icy fingers slipped under his hood and touched his neck. Without missing a beat, Nero's body crumpled into unconsciousness as he swam in the darkness of his mind.

When Nero awoke, he found himself on the boat and staring at the bright skies of morning – or was it afternoon? Rubbing his eyes, he sat up, his hood falling back to reveal a distorted array of snow-hued hair. Cocking his head to the right, he lightly scanned the boat and found that they have been docked rather crudely to the shore. Scanning his new surroundings, he nearly panicked when he couldn't find Vergil. His scent was washed away by the rain and his Devil Bringer was lifeless, telling him the hybrid was not present. Jerking to his feet, his body screaming with a dull ache at his choice of bedding last night, he stumbled his way off of the boat.

Did he finally leave!?

A hand on his Devil Bringer assured him Yamato was still absorbed and residing in the arm. "Shit," he hissed, a hand to his forehead as he glanced about wildly. He didn't know the area whatsoever and Vergil was his guide. Plus…he hated to admit it, but he needed that insufferable hybrid like he was oxygen. The only reason he was here was because of him. "Fuck," he moaned as he began to beat his forehead with the palm of his hand. When his head began to ring in pain his hand alternated to running through his hair and grabbing tuffs of it.

"Vergil!" he called out, feeling his heart beat wildly against his chest as he began to look around blindly. _Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit – HOW COULD HE DO THIS TO ME!? Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck – WHAT THE HELL AM I GOING TO DO NOW!? _"VERGIL!"

"VERGIL!"

The ground was shaking or was it him? Something was shaking him and he felt himself fall backwards, eyes watching as his entire world began to disperse into clouds of smoke. Eyelids shot open and he found himself staring at Vergil, his eyebrow cocked in question with his hand shaking his shoulder. "You were screaming my name," Vergil mused out, the words coming out in a laughing purr as a knowing smirk began to etch itself on his flawless features.

"Tch, shuddup," came Nero's heated response; body flushed a bright red as he slunk out of Vergil's hold. Just as he expected, his body was immensely sore from his poor choice of sleeping quarters. Cracking his neck and his back, he watched with cautious eyes as Vergil looked immaculate and perfect as usual. As for himself? He rather felt –than saw – his disarrayed and disheveled appearance. "So how far till Smyrna?" Nero asked to break the silence as he gazed at himself through the water. Yup, he looked like a complete mess. He could go for a good bath, he smelled like salt and fish.

"About an hour away," came the casual response, making Nero blink in awe and turn to Vergil. Were they really an hour away? "Come, you can eat breakfast along the way if we want to get there before the day gets older." So that meant it was the afternoon then, he couldn't tell with the puffy clouds roaming across the sun.

The walk was silent as usual save for the sound of their footsteps on fallen foliage and snow. Nero mulled over his thoughts, eyes focused on the hybrid in front of him who seemed oddly interested with his left arm. Maybe he wasn't meant to notice, but he caught Vergil – at least twice – gazing quietly at his left arm in silent anticipation. Was something going to burst out of it? Nero furrowed his brow and kept quiet, taking it as another of Vergil's bizarre antics.

After all…the Sparda family was a bit on the crazy realm of life. Didn't they decide a good way of keeping someone in line is putting a collar on them? Honestly, why did he always have to get mixed up with Sparda's weird line of business? In his opinion, the faster they find Dante the faster all these weird happenings will end for good.

* * *

Nero had expected Smyrna to be a ruined city, devoid of life, but it was not so. By the time they saw its towers, and the truly impressive walls that ringed the peninsula on which the city stood, they also saw fishing boats, of a size with the ship they previously were on. People were fishing from them – normal, friendly people, who waved and shouted as they passed over the stretch of bridges. Only their greeting was telling of how things might be in Smyrna.

Nero's grin faded. He could feel many demons here…or not precisely here, but further up in the city. Smyrna was built upon four low hills, surrounding a central valley, which lay open to the sea at this harbor. As far as Nero's senses could tell, only the valley was free of the demons – why, she didn't know. The hills, which made up at least two-thirds of the city's area, were infested with them.

This part of the city, on the other hand, could truly be said to be infested with life. Nero had forgotten how noisy a city could be. Even in Fortuna, he had rarely visited anything larger than the marketplace which constantly roared with life. Yet compared to Fortuna, this city was small but Smyrna made for it with the people. People, hurrying, arguing, shouting, selling, buying, singing…

"Is this place always like this?" Nero asked as they walked near the wharf.

"Not really," Vergil answered, "The Pool was normally full, with bigger ships – and there were warehouses here, not a market. It was quieter, too, and people were in less of a rush." The hybrid's eyes eyed the running children who would jump into the water before scrambling out, laughing and screaming. The both of them watched the stream of humanity and goods, hearing the tumult, and smelling all the new odors of the city replacing the freshness of the sea breeze. Cooking food, wood smoke, incense, oil, the occasional disgusting whiff of what could only be sewage… "Much cleaner too," he finally muttered. "I think it would be wise to find an inn or hostelry. Somewhere to stay for the night."

"Yes," Nero replied, reluctant to enter the human tide. Tugging his sleeve even further down his arm – if it was even possible – he could sense no demons at the moment save for Vergil himself. There must have been some kind of accommodation or agreement with the demons and that stank to him more than sewage.

Vergil snagged a passing boy by the shoulder as Nero continued to eye the crowd, nose wrinkling. They spoke together for a moment, a coin changed hands, then the boy slid into the rush, Vergil following. Vergil looked back, saw Nero staring absently, and grabbed him by the wrist, dragging him after him. Making sharp turns, he felt his body be moved in two directions – the crowd pushing back and Vergil pulling him forward. Vergil's grip slipped and fell away, and Nero blindly reached out and grasped Vergil's hand.

It was the first time Nero had truly touched him, bare skin to bare skin, since the poisoned incident. Nero was surprised by the shock it gave him – for it felt as if he was touching ice itself. Certainly, his mind had been wandering, and it was a sudden grab…his hand felt larger than it should, and interestingly calloused and textured. Quickly, he slipped his hand out of his, and concentrated on following both him and the boy, weaving across the main direction of the crowd.

They went through the middle of the open-topped market, along one street of little booths – obviously the street of fish and fowl. The harbor end was alive with boxes and boxes of fresh-caught fish, clear-eyed and wriggling. Vendors yelled their prices, or their best buy, and buyers shouted offers or amazement at the price. Coins went from palm to palm, or, occasionally, whole purses disgorged their shinning contents into the belt-pouches of stallholders.

Towards the other end it grew a little quieter. The stalls here had cages upon cages of chickens, but their trade was slower, and many of the chickens looked old and stunted. Beyond the market there was a wide swath of empty ground. It had obviously been intentionally cleared, first with fire, then with mattock, shovel and bar. Nero wondered why, till he saw the aqueduct that ran beyond and parallel to this strip of wasteland. The water reeked of magic however, and he could feel old magic in the aqueduct. The city folk who lived in the valley didn't have an agreement with the demons – their part of the city was bounded by old magic, and the demons could not pass whatsoever.

The cleared ground was a precaution, allowing the aqueducts to be guarded – and sure enough, Nero saw a patrol of officers marching atop it, their regularly moving shapes silhouetted, shadow puppets against the sky. The boy was leading them to a central arch, which rose up through two of the aqueduct's four tiers, and there were more officers there. Smaller guards continued on each side, supporting the aqueduct's main channel, but these were heavily overgrown with thorn bushes, to prevent unauthorized entry by the living, while the swift and old magic overhead held back the demons.

Nero then wondered why neither he nor Vergil was affected by the magic. Why didn't they feel weak or a drain of their power? He supposed it was their human blood that kept them well and alive, and maybe even the collar that was helping Vergil more. Nero drew his coat closer to him as they passed under the arch, but the guards paid them no more attention than was required to extort a coin from Vergil. They seemed very third-rate – even fourth-rate – officers, who were probably more watch keepers than anything else.

Beyond the aqueduct, streets wound chaotically from an unevenly paved square, complete with a fountain of a woman with water leaving from her hands. "Where are we going?" Nero finally asked as they walked past the fountain.

"The boy says he knows a good inn," replied Vergil, indicating the ragged urchin who was grinning just out of reach of the always-expected blow.

"Appleseed Inn," said the boy."Best in the city, mister."

Surprisingly, the Appleseed Inn was quite a pleasant inn. A whitewashed building of four stories, it fronted onto a smaller square some two hundred yards from the fountain. There were three enormous apple trees in the middle of the square, somehow thick with pleasant-smelling leaves and copious amounts of fruit, despite the season. _Magic_, Nero thought as he took a sniff of the apple-scented air. Nero was thankful that his room had a window fronting the square.

Nero closed the window and came over to look at the bathtub in anticipation. Vergil handed him the key to his room, with a key of his own in his hand, walking off without another word. Not even informing him what room he was staying in whatsoever or where he was going. Typical Vergil to just do his own thing and ignore him.

Peeling his clothes off, he winced as the smell of salt and sweat wafted off of him. Naked, he rested Red Queen against the bath's rim – in easy reach – then sank gratefully into the water, taking up the lump of apple-scented soap to begin removing the caked grime and sweat.

Through the wall, he could hear a man's – Vergil's – voice. The water gurgling, a woman's giggling. Nero stopped soaping and concentrated on the sound. It was hard to hear, but there was more giggling, an indistinct male voice, and then a loud splash. Like two bodies in a bath rather than one.

There was silence for a while, then more splashing, gasps, giggles – was that Vergil laughing? Then a series of short, sharp, moans. Womanly ones. Nero flushed and gritted his teeth at the same time, then quickly lowered his head into the water so he couldn't hear, leaving only his nose and mouth exposed. Underwater, all was silent, save for the dull booming of his heart, echoing in his flooded ears.

So what? He should've known that the twin was making sure to live up to all of the inn's benefits. Plus, this was Dante's twin – and Dante was the biggest womanizer on the planet. What made Vergil so different? Sex was the last thing on his head, anyways. Just another complication – messiness – emotions. There were enough problems. Concentrate on planning. Think ahead. It was none of his business. He didn't even know the guy well enough to be judging him, right?

A dull tapping noise on the side of the bath made him raise his head out of the water, just in time to hear a very self-satisfied, masculine and drawn-out moan from the other side of the wall. He was about to stick his head back under, when a glint of blue caught his eye. There leaning against the bathroom door, eyes focusing on the frame of the door was the hybrid himself. So Nero sat up, angrily pulling his knees up to cover himself, "What do you want?"

"I just thought that you might like to know that I'm in the room to your left," head tilting toward the silent room in the opposite direction of the noisy couple. "It hasn't got a bathtub, so do be kind and hurry up. I'll be downstairs in the meantime, getting the local news. Come down when you're done."

"Oh," Nero replied. He looked across at the far, silent wall, then back to the close wall, where the human noises were now largely lost in the groaning of bedsprings. "I won't be long."

Twenty minutes later, a clean Nero, garbed in a spare shirt and pants, crept on bare feet through the largely empty common room and tapped the elegant Vergil on the back. Even though he smelled of incense and chai, the scent of rain and salt also coated his scent. "Your turn for the bath," Nero grinned, "my evil-smelling demon."

Vergil gave a nod as he stood up, a face of brimming amusement dancing on his features at the nickname.

"I'll organize for diner to be served in your room, so we can plan as we eat," Nero added.

In the event, the planning didn't take long, nor as it slow in dampening what was otherwise a relatively festive occasion. They were safe for the moment, clean, well-fed – and able to forget the past troubles and future fears for a little while. But, as soon as the last dish – a beef stew with garlic, yellow squash and tarragon vinegar – was cleared, the present reassured itself.

"From what I gathered, there is an area not too far from the city's border where a Hell Gate stands. It is in a reservoir…so wading in the water will be a noisy feat, also sound carries. Whoever is lurking inside will surely hear us. Plus, who knows what traps lies inside the reservoir."

"If I can find Dante and bring his spirit back to his body," Nero said stubbornly, "then we can deal with whatever confronts us. That is the first thing. Dante. Everything else is just a complication that's followed on."

"Or precedes it," Vergil drawled, "So, I take it your master plan is to sneak in, as far as we can, find Dante's body, which will hopefully be tucked away in some safe corner, and then see what happens?"

"We'll go in the middle of a clear, sunny day…" Nero began.

"It's underground," Vergil interrupted blandly.

"So we have sunlight to retreat to," Nero finished firmly. "With sunlight on our side, we can easily pick the demons out and put them out of their element: darkness."

"Sounds like a terribly brilliant plan to me," muttered Vergil, "The genius of simplicity…"

Nero frowned and Vergil yawned. "I'm going to turn in early…we'll leave tomorrow," Nero huffed, Vergil stretching in his room as Nero walked off. Damn Vergil. He always seemed to weasel in a snarky statement whenever he has the chance.

* * *

He slept – a creature with human and demon blood coursing through him in symbiotic harmony that contrasted heavily to the relationship between demons and humans. Yet despite how rigid and icy the hybrid was, he slept in an organized mess. Stomach on the mattress, right side of the face buried deep in the eggshell-white pillow and arms underneath, he exuded peace in waves. The entire room hummed with Zen as the ferocity and loathing forever twined inside the hybrid's heart was at a listless thump.

Yet the demonic being was awake, senses forever in tune with the world around it, a scanner constantly checking to make sure all was clear. Although the hybrid was quite assured from the old magic that reeked all over this half of the city that nothing could truly pass. Then what of him? Was he not a living example of this break through the barrier? Yet assurance swept over him, dulling his senses as did the collar that would uncomfortably dig into his neck as he shifted through the night in a lazy yawn of movement.

What did he have to worry? All the chess pieces were in their designated spots and all he had to do was move the final piece, placing the king in a compromising situation. Stretching in his sleep like a languid feline, a curled smile easing its way onto his face with such warm generosity, something pricked the back of his mind. It was like someone burrowing a thorn into his skin, irking his entire being as his smile left his handsome face and morphed into a frown. Brows furrowed as his body arched, as if invisible strings were pulling him to rouse him up. The sensation came again and it was enough to rouse the hybrid, body sitting up in the bed as eyes of silver stared through the darkness of the room.

Something was present yet it held only a demonic stench accumulated through being around demons. It did not radiate the scent whatsoever and that only made the hybrid slip out of the confines of the warm covers. Padding on silent feet toward the wall, eyes stared quietly at it as he tilted his ear toward it. He could hear the sound of movement in the room – Nero's room – and his senses slowly began to map out an image in his mind. Eyelids closed over the bright orbs of silver as his senses painted out an image as the scent continued to be searched for in the endless database in the twin's cranium.

A Fallen.

It was alone however. Usually Fallens traveled in packs and knowing one was about made him question its purpose. Although it explained perfectly why the Fallen was not crushed by the ancient magic in the area. A Fallen was no demon whatsoever, a Fallen was nothing but a fallen angel stripped of its titles and glory, becoming tainted by Sin.

"Hmph..."

Moving away from the wall, he made his way toward a chair that sat before a desk, his body easing into it. Crossing his leg over the other, he listened to the sounds in the other room like a blind man listening to a movie, his ears tuned into the show beside him. The Fallen was crossing the span of the room and the sound of parting – was it the wings parting back? – filled his ears. The Fallen must have drawn his weapon and struck Nero's Devil Bringer, for a loud clash of demonic flesh and the unearthly weapon filled the air.

Nero's heartbeat escalated on the spot, 'fight or flight' kicking in as he heard the youth scramble in the bed. Vergil ignored the scent of spilled blood and instead made a steeple with his fingers as he stared curiously at them. Was it cruel to allow Nero to face this creature defenseless and ignorant of how to truly kill such a thing? Yes. Was it a disgusting act of display to lounge and listen to the fight – or rather an uneven fight? Of course, don't be naïve. But there are always _reasons_ to every action he made…

Vergil licked a sharp canine inside of his mouth as he mulled over past thoughts and lamenting over the fact he was roused from his pleasant slumber. Yet he has been meaning to do this for quite a good time now, and now was the perfect time to see it displayed in all its glory.

Conditioning.

Something that can be achieved through numerous of methods like positive or negative reinforcement until it has sunken in. Nero has been negatively reinforced to turn to him whenever he is in danger. Demons appear, Nero is in trouble, and he comes in and handles it with grace. So what happened when the last step was missing? From the sounds of it, what happens is bloodshed and curse words.

"Vergil!"

Eyes flickered to the wall as his body gradually stood up, legs taking their time in walking to the door and exiting the room. The answer to the experiment? The youth calls out for him and no one else. The purpose? The purpose was to only sweeten a future victory that will come by tomorrow and to deepen a pang of hurt great in depth that it will never be forgotten by history nor time. If he embraced his demonic heritage, why dull the effects of one's actions? Pushing the door open, lock unlocking under his hand, he entered the room to see a warzone taking place. It seemed the Fallen was doing a good job not letting Nero near his weapons. The youth was currently backing away as the Fallen approached, burnt and scarred body revealed as it brought its weapon upward.

Seeing is believing, and the collar was beginning to slacken, causing a warm shiver to run down his spine as pent up energy began to bubble. It was just enough for him to manipulate time and space, to push his body to a certain spot without actually walking to it. Behind the Fallen, his hand reached to grab the still Red Queen, feeling the bizarre handle slide into his hand. The creature gave a startled sound as it spun around, facing the Son of Sparda with vibrant eyes of coal. Vergil instead eyed his target with critical and calculating eyes, mind already dictating to the body exactly what it should do next. Cogs and joints moved accordingly, like a super computer informing the machinery around it exactly what needs to be done.

Feet pushed off into a short-lived sprint as wings were spread out once more. The Red Queen quickly found its mark when the hybrid skewered the fallen angel, body being tackled to the floor. Who knew what noise they were causing and who knew how many people were already roused from their sleep to wonder what on earth is going on. Vergil did not dwell on such thoughts and instead pushed himself to his feet, watching the creature give a chocked gasp and writhe on the ground. Spontaneously it combusted into an array of golden specks that littered the sky, dispersing like smoke across the room before vanishing altogether.

Vergil brushed himself off, eyes staring at the burnt floor as he turned toward the youth. Nero stood in the corner of the room, cupping his right arm with his demonic hand, chest heaving in the air. A look of pained relief danced on the young adult's face yet Vergil could taste the fear off of Nero. The child was taken out of his safety-zone and bombarded with a surprise attack, a point where he was unable to even coherently fight back. Watching the usually headstrong and annoyingly rude youth stare at him with such…relief…

The hybrid remained in place when Nero approached him with hurried strides, head sinking into the half-demon's chest. Vergil could feel a hot and shaky breath continue to berate the skin on his upper chest as his diluted eyes of blue turned downward to stare at a head of pure-colored locks. A porcelain-skinned hand rose up to lightly rest on the back of the youth's head, and that seemed to be the appropriate action because the still fear-ridden heartbeat of Nero's began to slow down considerably.

There the two stood for a good ten minutes, ignoring the sound of feet pounding on a stairway not too far off.

Lips twitched into a smirk as he tilted his head downward, becoming partially buried in the mess of hair. Giving a pat that told Nero that their little buddy-buddy session was over, he drew back and proceeded with grabbing the youth's items. Nero stared quietly at him, looking nothing more but a lost child at a mall, fingers fidgeting with the hem of his pants for the sake of keeping them occupied.

Heading to the doorway, nostrils catching the scent of humans approaching – probably the staff and other bystanders, all wondering what on earth was the commotion on floor two. Tilting his head in the direction of his room, he motioned for Nero to follow.

"Come, you'll be safe with me."

And so the lamb sought safety though a devil…

* * *

_Love it? Hate it? Tell me in a review! _

Author's Notes

1) You know - in this story - I do see the relationship between Nero and Vergil being exactly the same as the relationship between Nero and Yamato. Yamato is always that ace in his sleeve, that weapon that can get him out of every trouble and problem set before him. Seeing that an avatar - a segment of Vergil's demonic being - is in encased in Yamato (which is seen whenever Nero Devil Triggers) only shows the link between Vergil and Yamato. So in DMC4, we see Nero literally willing to do whatever is possible to keep Yamato so he can get through the challenges before him in contrast to relying on his own abilities. So in turn, Nero depends on Vergil to always be there for him and be that stable rock in this unstable journey (hence why he is annoyed/hurt when he believes Vergil is off fornicating with some woman instead of keeping up that controlled image). So in a sense, what I am trying to convey through the entire story, is that Vergil is the physical humanoid image of Yamato and Nero is drawn to him. I mean...right now who is in control in this entire relationship? Vergil. Doesn't he order Nero to do whatever he says? Like gathering supplies in the past when Michael was present and so forth? So while Nero may claim he reigns control over Yamato/Vergil he himself is swayed under the influence of them both - just like when Nero first Devil Triggered under the influence of Yamato.

So who do you really think is wearing the 'collar' over here?

2) Vergil is an observer. While he does play a hand in everything he does, it is usually behind the scenes and never open for display. The last secton of the story reveals this even more that Vergil is more content with just watching things play out then playing an active role in it.

3) Possibly Vergil's greatest ability is the fact that if he ever wanted to...he can masquarade himself as his brother.


	9. human

**summary: **_// _Post DMC 4 // _Nero liked the idea of playing hero and saving Dante's ass, but when did playing 'hero' suddenly mean asking help from a monstrous secret Dante has been hiding from Nero since day one? All things come with a price and Nero has a bad feeling that Vergil is going to request for more than just Yamato… _

_**disclaimer: **I do not own Devil May Cry, Nero, Dante, Vergil, etc. I wish..._

**feed me a box of words**  
**chapter nine:** human  
**written by:** of wolves and dogs

_**"**__If only the crying could heal  
I'd sell my left arm to buy passion  
If only apologies worked  
Well I could find some reasons  
Why maybe you wouldn't be  
So ill**,** so**,** ill**,** sorry your souls  
So fucking shallow  
It's creeping outside, outside of its hole  
It's trying to see, say it  
Fake this reality**."**_

- Humanoid by Chevelle

* * *

He woke up feeling warm and at ease with the world. This must be what hot chocolate felt like sitting in a mug: warm, rich in sweetness, and exuding such pleasant peace. The youth was in heaven as he curled even tighter into the sheets that smelled of exotic chai tea with whispers of vanilla incense, making him heady with its delicious feel. Pulling the pillow closer to him until his face was nearly entirely buried into it, a throaty sigh of pleasure left his lips as he basked in this glorious feeling.

He was safe. Wrapped up warmly and tightly. Cares and worries far off – distant.

Eyes closed, he felt the sun tickle his cheek before gradually moving to his eyelids, casting colors of dull gold into the darkness of his eyes. It was a few minutes later did it begin to bother him, causing him to turn to the other side of the bed, the scent of chai and incense now faint on the other pillow. This only caused him to squirm in discomfort until his body finally betrayed him by rousing him up, fed up with trying to accommodate him. Eyes fluttered open, those eyes of warm oceans and laughing brooks staring blearily at the cream-colored room. Taking in the painting of a faraway land on the wall, his eyes flickered down to see the end of a golden-colored couch. Eyes moved across the armrest of the couch and to the cushions to find it occupied by a body crafted of muscles hugging a lithe body. Arms were crossed – even in sleep – across a bare chest that gave off breaths of authority. Locks of immaculate snow were disheveled from sleep yet they only helped create this image of a slumbering god. Porcelain skin was given color by the sun as scars shinned even brighter across skin once thought flawless and unmarked.

A weary sigh escaped Nero's stubborn lips as he lightly closed his eyes, chin drawing to his chest. He couldn't explain how grateful he was for Vergil as a companion in this chaotic journey. The end was approaching and soon life would resume its normal pace – if it was ever normal in the first place.

Eyes opened and he found the hybrid sitting up and staring curiously across the room, nostrils flaring gently as if taking in every essence in from the room. Nero has grown to be unsurprised by how Vergil always seemed to be up and about, appearing and vanishing out of thin air, etc. Instead he simply accepted it and wondered idly he was finally beginning to comprehend the hybrid in front of him.

Eyes slowly settled on him as the twin broke the silence with that smooth voice of his that made his words into substantial silk, "How are you feeling?"

Now Nero was shocked by the question and he could feel a helpless smile dancing on his lips. He should've known that Vergil had a soft side in him –

"Because if you still feel shaken or ill from the previous events, I care not. We leave regardless of your current condition," Vergil finished with a sigh as he ran a hand through his hair, leaving his seat on the couch to pad to the sink. Nero only frowned, pursing his lips as he gave a nod.

"Never mind," Nero mouthed as he fell back onto the bed. _Soft side? Oh yeah, he just Mr. Sunshine._

* * *

The two left the city early in the morning, finding that it was more difficult to leave the city then enter it. Guards were heavily posted near the borders of the direction of their current destination. It was through patience – on Vergil's part, Nero more or less couldn't keep still – that snuck them out of the protective city.

With his jacket pulled tightly over him to prevent the cold from seeping in, the two moved in comfortable silence.

Nero felt a knot of anticipation take home in his abdomen, making him regret eating breakfast this morning as he drew farther and farther away from the city. He felt sick. He wanted to go back to the cool, tiled floors of the hotel's bathroom and rest his forehead against it, calling it his new home. He desperately wanted to crawl back into the warm, comforting sheets of Vergil's bed knowing the hybrid was somewhere nearby making sure all danger was at bay. Nero couldn't truly describe the sensation, but his body was kicking and screaming inside and he could feel himself almost tremble in restraint. His mind told him that this was finally the end of his journey and instead of relishing the end of this all, his body decided it wanted to set forth a holocaust of agony inside his being.

Clenching his teeth as his Devil Bringer's normal thrum – a sign that demons were somewhere around the body – was only making his insides do sickening flips. God, it felt as if he had that poison inside of him again and it was eating him from the inside-out. He blindly wondered if Vergil could do the same procedure and heal him once more. But he knew he wasn't poisoned, he was just…nervous, frightened and shaken for known and unknown reasons.

As they were a good two miles or so away from the city, did he feel himself becoming more nauseous. Feeling like he was going to spill his guts on the dirt path long ago untouched by man, something icy touched the back of his neck. It was as if it quelled the uneasiness occurring in his body and he gave a shaky sigh in relief as his stomach began to settle down. It was when his senses began to stop hyperventilating at the waves of nausea, did he realize that Vergil had his hand on the back of his neck, gently gripping it. It felt as if the hybrid was lending or rather giving him comfort…or was he just taking it away and replacing it with an illusion?

Eventually the hand on his neck slid off and a noise somewhat resembling protest and offence at the action left him, but was lost altogether. For Nero found himself at the entrance of the reservoir or rather a mangled metal gate that did not look welcoming whatsoever. He stared rather painfully at the gate crusted with ice and vines long gone dead but still stubbornly twisted around the bars. Giving a glance at Vergil, the hybrid moved forward, fingers of ice touching the gate of ice – as if the two things could converse in a language made of temperature. Before Nero could even comprehend what happened next, Vergil took a step back and kicked the gate down, the metal giving a painful scream as it gave in. Nero blinked rather stupidly at the now open path, gate hanging on its hinges as it dipped down lowly to the ground.

And here Nero was expecting some sort of old magic – or test or something more…demonic or mystifying! Instead physical violence came about, something Nero was all too familiar with at the moment.

Seeing Vergil was standing back like a silent sentinel, expecting Nero to enter first, he moved forward. Nero was thankful for his Devil Bringer – which proved to be a wonderful source of light – as he found his feet moving down stairs. With his right hand on the wall, Devil Bringer poised and ready for whatever may come, he quietly counted the number of steps he has walked on during his journey.

The air was musty and wet, becoming so thick at times he swore he was inhaling the damp dust as it helped clog his lungs. Yet he was afraid to break the silence with a cough, so he painfully swallowed a few times to ease his agitated throat and lungs. His foot moved toward the next step but it instead hit water, body nearly pitching forward at the change of depth perception on his body. Yelping, his voice echoing, he could hear the scuttle of demons far off. It was only a hand grabbing the back of his jacket, keeping him rooted that prevented him from falling into the water.

The water reached his upper calves, threatening to reach his knees, as he mumbled out thanks to Vergil. "Move on forward…I will tell you when to turn," Vergil spoke, his echoing voice coming back as a snake-like hiss. Nero nearly forgot that Vergil could see quiet perfectly in the dark, and with a nod he moved on forward, feeling reassured with the hybrid protecting his six.

With the careful guidance of the hybrid and how he ignored the demons slithering about curiously, Nero began to feel himself become reassured. He began to feel himself sink into a state of confidence when one knows nothing can go wrong.

When they made another turn, the sound of the faint trickle of water from far off – or a faint breeze from outside running inside came to sudden halt. Silence fell on the air to the point where all he could hear was his breathing and his heartbeat. Even the sound of him wading in the water was gone, muted by some bizarre trick. As if he didn't need to be rattled enough, and he wondered if Vergil could hear his heart run miles in a second. Swallowing the lump in his throat, he moved forward, running on the fact that finally Dante would be back to the realm of the living.

The room was the size of a small auditorium with pillars standing to support the entire edifice, as water that reached his knees now gave muted ripples around him. The walls were once a blue but the paint was nearly gone, remaining patches of a sea blue struggling to stay on. Hints of golden designs of yawning curls and stretching lines were barely visible, but it was enough to give this entire area a peaceful tone. He felt as if he was stepping into some water temple – especially with the ring of statues in the middle of the room.

There they stood: nine statues that stood on pedestals and were turned inwards toward the heart of the circle. Each statue was different, none of them the mirror image of its neighbors. They were breathtaking in beauty, with their perfected bodies of marble and Nero got the impression of saints. One statue stood with its head inclined gently forward, eyes half-lidded with hands clasped together in a prayer. Another stood as if cupping some hidden substance and the different poses continued with each statue. The only thing that made him truly curious was the fact that these statues were thrumming with magic. Not like Dante's statues where they were breathed to life, but magic that felt as if it was meant to protect and remain as these pedestals of magic.

Turning his eyes toward the middle, he found another statue that was partially desecrated. There standing, bare torso displayed proudly, was someone he knew quiet well. Even though the face of the statue was desecrated to the point where all it was was the inside marble, he recognized the body. He could feel life burn brightly and he gave a chuckle in relief. Dante was here.

"This is it," Nero exclaimed as he stared at the ring of statues surrounding the one in the middle, before turning his eyes to Vergil. Vergil gave a nod, standing outside the ring as he could feel the collar slowly tightening, sensing wrong. Vergil watched the youth move toward the statue in the middle, touching it with his hand to only draw it back as if he was burned. A soft hum filled the air until it switched to piercing sound that would make dogs' ears bleed in agony. Vergil snarled, his ears catching the sound quiet clearly as his hands rose up to cover his ears. It was after a good five minutes did the sound cease, Nero tossing his hands in utter disbelief, "What the hell was that!?"

"Just a precaution – you cannot touch it without setting the defenses off," Vergil mused out, listening to his own ear cells give their swan song as they died. "You need to break the defenses by giving blood, it seems," Vergil added after a moment, eyes critically examining the nearest statue. Nero gave a shaky nod, drawing out Yamato as the sword gave a sweet exhale of sound as the hybrid's eyes immediately turned toward the blade the minute he heard it breath through the air. Body shifted uncomfortably as eyes watched the youth slice his hand, the gesture all too familiar and ringing of a past failure. How the tables were ironically turned and how the roles were cruelly warped. There was Nero being his past self, offering blood, and here he was being Arkham, watching a plan unfold beautifully. There the bleeding hand went, running across the first statue as he moved onto the next one.

The hybrid could feel the seal break, his eyes flickering upward to see water fall on the statue – as if there was some hidden waterfall suddenly breathed to life, or a water pipe that just decided to break. Nero jerked in shock at the sudden onslaught of sound and water, eyes staring in utter confusion at the scene as Vergil gave a 'hmph' in curiosity. The water eventually died down to a slow trickle, water sliding down the statue to the point where it looked as if it was crying. Nero repeated the scene with the eight other statues, and one by one Vergil could feel the seals break at the touch of human blood with the faintest tinge of demonic essence. Blood for the breaking.

There the statues dripped water and when Nero was finished, he hastily sucked on the palm of his hand, as his brows rose up toward Vergil. Vergil gave a quiet nod and moved forward, not feeling the throbbing restraint from the seals that prevented all those of strong demonic heritage from entering. Staring curiously at the statue in the middle, he watched as Nero touched the statue without his hand being repulsed suddenly. "Finally…thanks, Vergil," Nero sighed out in relief as he handed Vergil Yamato. "A deal is a deal."

Vergil merely stared at the sword before turning his eyes back to Nero, "You have to take the collar off of me, Nero. I cannot hold the sword – my mother's amulet restrains me from doing so."

Nero froze for a moment, face a mask of realization and shock before sinking into a muddied version of thought. Vergil outstretched his hand, Nero staring rather stupidly at the fingerless gloved hand with those clean, pale fingers. The youth felt himself instantly recoil at the idea of having to take the collar off to complete the deal. It was the minute he shied away from the entire bargain did he feel his insides grow hot, as if his blood was beginning to boil. It felt as if an invisible force was setting him on fire, punching his abdomen for good measure. Clenching his teeth, hissing in displeasure, he turned his eyes to Vergil for an explanation. "Blood pacts are one of the strongest pacts one can make with another. Break the pact – or attempt to, and your body will retaliate," the hybrid informed – like a business man, or an executioner who was matter-of-factly stating that pain is not pleasant, get over it.

But business was business, and Vergil had no intention of freeing his younger twin. All he wanted was his sword and to be done with this all.

Taking a shaky sigh, Nero moved forward and groped at the collar. Vergil tilted his head upward, exposing his neck as he felt Nero tug at the collar. With a firm snap, the collar came off and was held in the youth's hand as Vergil gently took his prized possession from Nero's other hand. Right hand holding his sword, Vergil proceeded with massaging the area where the collar bit into his skin for the past year. Nero waited for Vergil to Devil Trigger and slaughter him, but the hybrid remained passive and uninterested in him.

Nero stared at the metal collar that was now silk in his palm, a large, blood-red amulet resting in his hand. Placing it in his back pocket because he no longer wanted to look at the item, he stared almost timidly at Vergil. Here was this juggernaut standing about exuding those calm, slow waves instead of destruction and bloodlust. Vergil's cold orbs for eyes turned to Nero, "He's waiting for you."

Nero gave a nod and turned toward the singular statue in the middle, Devil Bringer on the statue he allowed his demonic arm to pry through the boundaries of Life and Death.

* * *

It was thirty minutes of mucking through the gates of Death, nearing the Demon Realm, did he find Dante's spirit. There it was, sucked into the churning waters of Death and when he grabbed the spirit, he felt his Devil Bringer howl in utter agony. It screamed at him to let go, to drop the thing and run, but Nero clenched his teeth and bit his tongue at the same time. He was not going to let go – he was going to get his friend's ass out of this hell hole. So he persevered, willing himself to keep on trudging on, trying to focus on the fact that his journey was about to end. He would soon be taking the next boat – there goes his stomach – to Fortuna, then he was going to plop down on his bed while Kyrie made him a nice cup of tea. His worries were about to soon be done with! Done! Zip! Gone!

With a grin, ignoring the fact that Dante's spirit truly did weight tons and that demons were warily hovering at the edges of each gate in secrecy, he could feel the warm touch of Life nearby. He was almost there…

His body was more or less shoved out of Death's cold embrace, his frame rattling with consciousness as he stared blankly before him. Eyes slowly focusing, he blinked to find that the statue before him was beginning to crack, life thrumming inside of it to the point where he could feel it nearly burn the pale hair on his arm. Taking a tentative step back, not even acknowledging Vergil's presence, a chunk of marble fell off. Falling into the water with a _plop_, the rest of the marble casing began to disintegrate as a gentle light of ethereal gold illuminated the area. Wincing at the light, eyes partially closing, when the light finally faded did he see a familiar face.

"Dante!" Nero exclaimed as Dante flashed a smug grin, scratching the side of his head as his left hand resided inside the pocket of his pants. The red-clad twin moved forward with a casual pace filled with such a bizarre sense of prowess and control never seen before by Nero. Slinging an arm around Nero, body leaning forward as eyes gazed coyly at his surroundings, the older male made a clicking sound with his salmon-hued tongue. "You have no fucking idea the shit I went through to save your ass!" Nero boasted, feeling suddenly at ease as Dante chuckled into his ear, head lolling to the right.

Yet it was the minute that he chuckled into his ear, hot air searing his earlobe did his Devil Bringer suddenly jolt in utter offence. It burned his entire being, sending him reeling away from Dante as if his touch set him on fire. Staring wildly at his Devil Bringer as it screamed in colors on his arm, fingers twitching and flexing on their own as it jerked to life, he wondered in panic why his Devil Bringer was acting up again. It was suddenly keen on lunging at Dante and Nero had to grab his demonic wrist, forcing his hand down as Dante's grin only twisted wide – growing in size. What the fuck was going on!?

"Does your left arm wish to kill me, Nero?" Dante inquired but the voice leaving Dante's mouth was not the same whatsoever. The voice was like tar, words slopping out of his mouth and creating an awful stench in the air as it disintegrated anything it touched on. The voice reeked of arrogance to the point where Nero wanted to rip the lips off this Dante and crush them. The voice was in all…actuality terribly handsome, as if there was a bravado of instruments crafted for this Dante's vocal chords and only his…but underneath it all was this filth that agitated and frightened him at the same time.

This was _not _Dante.

Dante gave a half-smile, a fatherly-look of pity dancing on his brows as he lightly made a wry gesture with his fingers. "It was so kind of you for helping with this…prison break of mine," he mused as he shot a long glance at Vergil who stood not too far off with arms crossed over one another, "I knew a Son of Sparda would be a perfect asset to my confining dilemma."

_Vergil!?_ And his mind slowly began to go on the fritz, coming to a sudden halt, his brain only dictating to his body to breathe and pump blood. All information – all thought processing was gone and replaced with paralysis.

Eyes flashed toward Vergil who looked rather…bored, forefinger moving to scratch the side of his chin. Shaking his head, he glowered at Dante, "Who the fuck are you?"

The smile slowly faded from Dante's face as a look of grave seriousness began to sink in like water on a cotton shirt, the marking spreading quickly. "An angel. I go by many names – none too flattering," he answered and Nero got a wave of déjà vu. Vergil said something similar to him when they first met, and he could only feel a sickening knot form deeper into his stomach. "Lucifer…or Satan – pick and choose, the list sure does goes on," he jested with sickening pleasure, hands brushing through silky locks. Nero instantly stiffened because the very thing he did not want to come across – the very thing he was threatened that will come after him was finally after him. The irony was, however, that it was him who brought the monster to the realm of the living.

"What's the matter?" Lucifer mused.

Nero swallowed the lump in his throat, his mind slowly comprehending it all as his body remained rigid – frozen. "Nothing…only that it sure is a sorry name for an angel," he exhaled out shakily; even his insults were as weak as his knees. God, where was Dante! Dante was supposed to be here, he was supposed to free Dante! This was not Dante – this was Lucifer! The complete opposite.

_Get your fucking head out of the ground Nero! _Something screamed at him, and he snapped out of his paralysis. Eyes wide, they snapped back to life and blinked rapidly, as if taking in the scene with photo shots. Lips curled back to a snarl, he lunged at the false image of Dante with Red Queen blazing, fire licking the air hungrily. Feet slapping in the water, he could almost feel little strings pull him down but he tore through them. He was going to kick this asshole's ass whether he was Lucifer or just some demon – this moron messed with the wrong teenager. Lucifer remained put and he pictured this as his fight with Dante for Yamato, only fueling him to kick Dante's smug face. If he could treat this as if this was all some wild rollercoaster of a fight with Dante, then he will surely walk out of this problem with grace.

Just as he was about to lop off the creature's head, a slender blade blocked the path of his sword with utter ease. Shocked, he found himself staring at Vergil and that is when he felt his lungs tighten once more. _Oh fuck._ That's right, Vergil was no longer an ally of his and he could feel his insides threaten to engulf each other before leaving his throat and out his mouth. His ace in the sleeve was now in Vergil's hands plus his guardian – Vergil himself – was no longer under Sparda's ruling.

"God dammit – fuck you, Vergil," Nero hissed out, sounding out more like a plea as the hybrid finally applied strength. Before Nero could yelp in surprise, he was flung back, his fall broken by his body slamming into a column. Sliding into water, choking as water rushed up his nose, he slowly scrambled to his feet as his free hand was on the column for support. Shit, how was he supposed to beat the living daylights out of Lucifer if Vergil was going to play guard dog? Giving a frustrated growl, shaking his head and dispersing all hopeless thoughts, he charged forward once more, Devil Bringer prepared to yank Yamato out of his grasp. Vergil merely tilted his head to the right, cold eyes already calculating his moves as Nero jumped in the air, Devil Bringer lunging out.

He missed, fingers grasping water as out of nowhere a knee ram into his chin, sending him sprawling into the floor of water. Sliding uncomfortably onto the ground, he shakily pushed himself up but was earned with translucent sapphire blades plunging into his chest and legs, forcing water into his lungs. He could feel his vision begin to falter as he choked on the water, limbs struggling as the translucent blades only seemed to push him further down. Eyelids fluttered, eyes already agitated by the water, as he could feel his body squirm and nothing else. With the sound of his heartbeat thudding in his ears, the cold blades left his chest – disintegrating into the lukewarm water. His limbs instantly shoved his upper half out of the water, mouth devouring the air as if it was water, his hands clutching at his red-stained chest. His chest burned but drinking in the oxygen made him temporarily forget the pain, a wild sense of relief gushing out of him – or was that the blood?

Spinning toward his attacker he found Vergil standing still in the water, looking goddamn perfect and aristocratic as Lucifer stood four steps behind on his left. A twisted grin danced on his lips, one a hyena would wear when it knows its prey is on the brink of death with no hope in the world. There was the image of the sons of Sparda and maybe in a parallel universe, this scene would make complete sense – both sons cruelly belittling another through brute force. Or was this always Vergil's nature? Was he this way to begin with? Was this why he was condemned by his own flesh and blood? And yet what a tangled web we weave, for there was the Prince of Darkness beside the Blood Traitor.

"It hurts, doesn't it…" Dante – no, Lucifer – mused as the male moved forward with powerful strides, as if the water didn't even exist around him. He couldn't stand the fact this monster was wearing Dante's face, it only made the pain in his chest double as he watched the face of a good friend mock and laugh at him. "To think you made this journey for the benefit of _moi_," he drawled, a calloused hand resting on his chest to emphasize himself. Vergil made a noncommittal huff, those eyes of permafrost staring pointedly at Lucifer. Lucifer lightly smacked his lips and mouthed an annoyed '_ah_'.

Nero clenched his jaw until he could feel his molars dig into each other, scrapping and causing pressure to ripple throughout the cavity of his mouth. "Frankly…I don't give a fuck about you. So shut your pie-hole before I do it for you. I want to know how this asshole got involved," Nero snarled, body wishing he could shift from his uncomfortable position of being on his knees in the water. Lucifer cocked a brow, the motion hidden in the curtain of snow-white bangs as he gave an amused smile that bordered on annoyance. The fallen angel was not exactly use to others pushing aside his existence and turning the attention away from him. But there was no reason to start a scene – let the dying brat have his wish.

Vergil merely stared for a good minute before closing his eyes and tilting his head to the right, a gesture that spoke volumes on how unnecessary this was. "I told you quite clearly that I was familiar with Death – far more familiar than you are with it," Vergil began with no inclination or tone in his voice save for everlasting disdain for even being in the presence of two pathetic beings. He saw no point in speaking of the past and he only wished to finish the deal at hand, finally proceeding with whatever path laid ahead for him. But if saying such trivial matters quickened the end of this entire scheme, then he supposed he could endure their presence for a moment or two longer. "I should still be dead but Lucifer found me and offered me a deal: give me life in exchange for finding a method to break the bindings that restrains him from touching Earth's soil. It has been a year since this occurred and it was Dante who found me when I found myself of substance and quite alive. As you know, I was bound to the house and also to my mother's amulet. The only way to break the bindings over me is only by someone with Sparda's blood running through their veins. You were the one who gave me permission to accompany you on this journey, breaking the first spell. Then it was you who broke the second spell: my mother's amulet."

Nero stared in silence, lips parted in utter disbelief as he took in shallow breaths. That still didn't explain anything! There were still gaps! Holes! God damn! Why the hell did things have to be so complicated!? "Where's Dante!? What about Yamato?" Nero spat. Was Dante dead!? Gone!?

"I heard of your arm from Dante – he feels the need to tell me his life's story for some odd reason. Perhaps he thinks we are indulging in some brotherly bonding, but it was the exact opposite: he was feeding me information. He informed me that you could manipulate gateways into Death through that arm, that you could pull souls back to realm of the living… So you became the key to my solution and so I sent you Yamato through Doppelganger. I cannot touch Yamato or wield it, but my Doppelganger can temporarily hold it. Yet it required so much from me, the amulet nearly killing me…the irony of it all…" he drawled, sighing softly, fingers twitching as if tempted to touch the area where the collar once resided.

Doppelganger…but it was Dante! He swore it was! It looked and – _oh._ He remembered now, how at the village that Vergil passed himself as Dante and everyone bought the entire charade without batting an eyelash. Plus, it explained Vergil's bizarre shadow – it was the effect of the presence of the Doppelganger. All along it was taunting him before his eyes and he passed it off as a trick of the eyes, now it made damn perfect sense. How many times was he given hints about this all!? Blatant hints!

"I don't give a fuck – where's Dante!?"

Vergil gave a careful shrug of the shoulders, "Probably coming back from a mission. No harm has been done to him whatsoever – as I am aware of."

So Dante was fine – he was alive. Yet he couldn't find it in him to feel grateful, instead he only felt sick. He wanted to throw up, to find a corner and kindly bleed to death in the water. All along he was walking into a trap, and he even blindly believed that there was good in Vergil. "Well congratulations…you got what you asked for," Nero hissed bitterly as he kept his gaze glued darkly to Vergil who only blinked slowly like a rousing animal from its sleep. God, so the fucking bastard tricked him – made him make a pact with him, an empty pact so he got the rewards in the end.

"Not really…there is still one prize to be given," Lucifer interjected and a cold shiver ran through Nero, eyes remaining on Vergil as the words wrapped around his insides, squeezing them. "You see I wasn't sure if Vergil would keep his end of the bargain, for he does have a nasty history behind him when it comes to business deals. So I offered him a little something extra…" _What else does the asshole want? Fucking wings and a cape!? Money? Hair gel? _"I promised him I would transfer that interesting arm of yours to him," Lucifer finished cheerfully, causing Nero to instantly retch in offense.

"W-what?" he breathed out in a small voice, fear drenching his words as he felt his mouth become dry.

His body told him to run. To run now and to run fast. Yet his limbs were paralyzed, cramping and remaining put. It didn't help that he was beginning to hyperventilate as his mind roared in fury and disbelief at his weakness. He watched helplessly as the two moved closer to him with disgusting silence – Vergil impassionate and Lucifer grinning like a maniac at the horror unfolding before them all. So this was why Vergil was so interested in his arm that day. So this was why he was glancing at his left arm. _That fucker was imagining himself with his finished prize._

Vergil slipped his left arm out of his eggshell-white coat that hung loosely and elegantly on his frame. The sleeve dipped and hit the water, his left arm revealed as he drew out Yamato. Lucifer made his way toward him, gripping his Devil Bringer by the wrist as it screamed and pulsed wildly in maddening warning. Yanking Nero halfway to his feet, the older being holding him up, the fallen angel's free hand roughly undid the youth's jacket. His wounds only throbbed with more purpose, causing Nero to stifle his cry of pain as he was jerked out of jacket. His sleeve of his shirt was pushed up as he felt a hot hand touch his shoulder, where the demonic arm began. Eyes found Vergil, imploring him to reconsider this entire trade. Yes, he hated the fact that others found him a 'freak' because of his arm. But his arm was his! It was his curse and blessing! It was the reason why he was able to put demons back to the Underworld and ensure that everyone else was safe.

"Vergil! Please!" Nero pleaded but the male only gave a nod to Lucifer, and he could feel the creature smirk in pleasure. "VERGIL!" he shouted and before he could even form a word, something inserted itself into his skin. It felt as if he was receiving a shot meant for a horse, and slowly more and more shots were being added to form a ring around his arm. They pulled the muscles until they began to snap, instantly causing him to scream as he shut his eyes.

The Son of Sparda was performing a similar task as Yamato sang a barely audible swan song as he raised it toward the area where collarbone met shoulder. When he gave the nod to Lucifer who was wearing the guise of his brother with utter mirth – something that more or less confounded and amused him - he pressed the sword against the flesh of his shoulder. A tongue swept across the roof of his mouth before remaining curled back, gritting his teeth as he finally applied strength. The pleasure with having Yamato was the fact the blade could effortlessly cut through anything in its path, and his arm was nothing but butter to it. So one minute his arm is happily connected to his body, the next minute it is sliding off and hitting the water. With the water devouring his arm, pulling it under into her depths and wide mouth, he focused on smoothly unhinging the streaks of blood off his treasured sword.

It felt as if his entire body was being consumed by flames and electricity but he promptly ignored the pain occurring on his upper body. He instead assured his body that it has gone through much worse and should do all a favor by enduring. So he numbed his mind to the cries his body sent through each and every nerve until the cries began to die to a pained whimper. Eyes of smoldering silver were instead focused with rapture at the collapsed Nero, cradling his body as his screams became soundless and hallow – voice rubbed raw and gone.

The sound of the hush of legs pushing through water moved his attention to Lucifer who carried the limb as if it was a crown. His movements were quick and Vergil prepared himself as Lucifer approached him. The arm was violently rammed into his gaping wound, causing him to hiss as Lucifer kept his hand firmly on the shoulder of the demonic arm, pressing it further into his body. The free hand reached out and grasped Vergil by the chin, both pair of glowing eyes staring at each other, mimicking each and every motion. "Vergil…you have my gratitude and my thanks, as do those in the Demon Realm," Lucifer mused, Vergil ignoring the strange sensation eating at his flesh, his mind telling him to Devil Trigger now to finish connecting the arm. "I'm sure your father is smiling in his grave," he finished with a sardonic grin, releasing the Son of Sparda, allowing him to Devil Trigger.

The arm instantly glued into his being, the hybrid rolling his shoulders as he felt invisible cords leave the arm and travel up his throat and into his skull. There he could feel them latch onto his brain, and he could hear it murmur and hum to him a foreign tongue. Was this what Nero heard from the entity? Tilting his head, jaws parting slightly as the arm continued on with its strange language as his demonic blood slowly began to translate and comprehend it all. "You can see, touch, taste and hear Death coming…yet you cannot sense Death when it is right beside you," Vergil mused out loud to Nero, his demonic form shuddering in pleasure at its new addition, his blood thrumming in harmony with the arm.

Eyes slowly moved to Nero, the youth crouched in the water, his left half of his body submerged into the dark water. His body convulsed in silence save for the shaky intakes of air, making the water ripple at his uneven movements as droplets of water ran down already wet cheeks. The child wept like the silent statues. The hybrid's own body gave a cruel shudder in animalistic hunger, like when one is standing in the heat of the sun for too long as chills of warmth trace lines down your back. Raising his new left arm, a fond gaze befell on it before curling each demonic finger into a closed fist. His body was reacting beautifully to his arm and he couldn't help but let a smile slide onto his face. A year of waiting and biding his time finally paid off. A year of humiliation and servitude finally paid off. A year of being shoved into the dark and kept a prisoner finally paid off.

With a pleasant sigh, he felt his body revert to its human form. Slipping his arm into the sleeve of his jacket, the Devil Bringer drying the wet edges of the sleeve with ease, he moved toward the mutilated youth. With his new appendage, he partially bent down to wrap those demonic fingers around a pale neck. Pulling him out of the water with ease, body instantly squirming in response as feet no longer touched the stable floor, Vergil held him like a rag doll. Eyes of satisfied silver churned and twisted in those irises as Nero felt fingers slowly tighten around his neck. Hands instantly reached out to pry the hand off of him - hands?

Vergil didn't need to choke him; he was doing the deed himself when his lungs violently came to a halt at the image before him. His left hand was not missing – nor was his left arm. No, instead of his Devil Bringer was cream-colored flesh with an elbow, wrist, hand and five fingers that mirrored his right arm. Why his arm was…

"Human," he whispered out blankly.

* * *

_Love it? Hate it? Tell me in a review! _

**A/N: Oh Vergil, you sneaky and ambitious bastard. Tsk! Tsk! Ha ha ha! I'll leave you all with this little cliffhanger! :) The end is slowly approaching in this story, so I want to give an early thanks to all my reviewers and readers. You keep me inspired and pumped!**


	10. hell hath no fury for a brother scorned

**summary: **_// _Post DMC 4 // _Nero liked the idea of playing hero and saving Dante's ass, but when did playing 'hero' suddenly mean asking help from a monstrous secret Dante has been hiding from Nero since day one? All things come with a price and Nero has a bad feeling that Vergil is going to request for more than just Yamato… _

_**disclaimer: **I do not own Devil May Cry, Nero, Dante, Vergil, etc. I wish..._

**A/N: **Sorry for the late update. But here it is, to just to make sure to you all that I am alive and so forth! Haha! The next two chapters are going to be hella awesome! I already have the next one written up. So strap on, things are going to start getting dangerous!

**feed me a box of words  
hell hath no fury for a brother scorned: intro to armageddon****  
written by:** of wolves and dogs

_"__Revenge now I sought, to break with my bread.  
Taking no chances, you come with me.  
I'll split you to the bone, help set you free.  
Twenty-seven, everyone was nice.  
Gotta see 'em make 'em pay the price.  
See their bodies out on the ice.  
Take my time.  
Am I evil? Yes I am.  
Am I evil? I am man, yes I am."_

- Am I Evil? – Metallica

* * *

Who knew how long it was, if one was to actually count up the days and years, when he willingly jumped off the ledge into the Demon Realm, or rather commonly known as Hell. All his mind allowed him to remember is rushing toward Mundus (his father's well-known opponent that was easily put down like a sick dog). So why couldn't he accomplish what his father accomplished? There was nothing written on the script that said he was not as superior as his father. And he moved on silent feet, his clear-cut gait speaking of a sprinter, a track star if his life was completely different and human. Yet as he sprinted forward, distributing weight and energy with calculated ease, something made him come to a shuddering halt.

Blonde hair…baby-blue eyes…a face completely feminine in all its beauty with a motherly touch that made the features soft. He swore to the gods – if they even existed – that he was staring at his mother. This was no illusion, no, he recalled reaching out and touching her forearm to confirm she was solid. She was solid and his senses did not advise him the woman before him was demonic. Instead, his senses picked up a scent that more or less made him think of plastic – fake – not real whatsoever. Yet his idiotic blood, that damn human blood, was muddying his entire body and mind. Something inside of him screamed at him to get his head back in the game, to ignore this obstacle. And something else inside of him sang in four-part harmony in sweet relief and grace, overpowering his instincts.

So his mind at an uncharacteristic sitting between two paths, he felt something pierce his being. He could recall the sound of ribs breaking, right lung being punctured and blood leaving his system as something from behind pierced him. So his body sunk onto his knees, breathing laborious as his mouth tasted of copper to the point where his entire senses got the sensation his whole body reeked of copper. Eyes flickered to the left to see those three glowing orbs of caustic light, growing closer and closer. To his right was the image of his mother, face impassive and it was the last thing his vision took in before sinking into darkness for six years.

Vergil wandered through Death like an invalid, body elsewhere as his spirit was disjointed from reality. So he learned of its gates, of its tricks, of its uses, of its manipulators and victims. It was when six years summed up was he found by Lucifer himself. "Bring me to the realm of the humans – to touch Earth's soil once more, and I will give you life and much more," was the promise and Vergil agreed, and the deal was made. The Son of Sparda made a pact with the Devil.

Vergil was and still is no idiot. Making pacts with an unstoppable force that is now revered as the 'creator of sin and darkness' is not an easy process. Meaning that everything he did – every action – had a purpose and would be highly scrutinized by himself and by Lucifer. In other words: one false move and he would find himself tugged down to the Ninth Circle of Hell without any hesitation. Vergil was tricked before when it came to grand schemes (like Arkham) and in the end he found himself lacking the Force Edge, falling into the Demon Realm and being tricked by Mundus. From what he gathered by Lucifer, he was made a mindless servant to Mundus and his ego still howled in agony at this crushing blow. Irony was so thick in his life; it might as well be his blood.

So Vergil requested that when he was brought back to life, his body would be found by Dante. He needed to weave in Dante into this picture, for it was only Dante who would be able to keep him safe, out of view, and restored back to health. Why? Demons and devils loathed the Sons of Sparda, and it didn't help that Dante's career path was killing so-said creatures. So in his sorry state: barely alive yet whole, he needed someone to nurse him out of view. And knowing Dante, his younger twin would make sure he was out of view from the world and kept in a secure area. Which is a partial blessing and a curse, because he did not expect Dante would use their mother's amulet to keep his hands to himself and his body rooted to the house.

So he had to wait a year, becoming more or less a housecat and the days were becoming tedious and boring routines. Yet this year did not pass on in vain, on the contrary he learned so much of what he missed. He learned he missed six years of his life being enslaved by Mundus and then being slaughtered by Dante – meaning he has been wasting his years being among the deceased. Yet there was a reason why he didn't pass through and become some Proud Soul, or reincarnated into an idiotic demon. He wasn't sure what the reason was and he had a hunch he would never know, but he was not about to complain. So Vergil learned of Dante and what have become of him over the years. He learned of bizarre demon encounters, of working with Arkham's daughter, Mary (or is rather crudely called 'Lady'). He learned of a woman named Trish, yet not much was explained save for the part she is a good business partner. Vergil then learned of Fortuna Island…of how the Force Edge was used as a bargaining chip to gain loyalty and place a spy within the manipulators. Now that was another thing that irked him beyond belief: they were using his father's sword as if it was something you could pass out like a damn coin to the poor. That was beside the point, or rather the topic that grasped his interest and held onto it in a chokehold.

This child called Nero who bore a relic of his father in the shape of an arm. An arm that could manipulate the thin layer between Life and Death. An arm that could crush whatever it pleased with demonic strength. An arm that could absorb weapons and powers. An arm that could acutely sense demons and who knows what other secrets laid inside.

Now this piqued his interest to a curious degree, like a cat finally stretching from its nap in the sun to find a succulent sparrow nearby. He wanted that arm.

Contacting Lucifer was not at all easy, especially in Sparda's House. So he had to communicate through whatever would be close to the barrier of the house – whether it be the lowliest of demons to a Duke of Hell. To rope in a messenger, he needed to first draw in a demon toward him without disrupting his mother's amulet around his neck. He went through numerous of plans until he was an uncanny, disheveled mess in the study, at his wit's end and frustrated at his confining predicament. It was then when his thoughts strayed toward Nero. The youth sounded like a younger version of Dante with more emotion and a better variety of insults. In other words, the youth would be prone to attracting demons. And for some reason let's say Nero is unable to bring a demon close to the barrier, then he could easily trick the youth to release him from the house and contact a demon during the journey.

In came Doppelganger.

The item reacted beautifully to his demonic heritage and hideously with his mother's amulet when activated. He remembered quiet clearly the struggle and effort it took to just pick up the sheathed Yamato, open a pathway for his Doppelganger and send it to the right area. If the necklace was off, he would have completed the tasks in a heartbeat. When all was said and done, playing off to be Dante's Doppelganger to the youth, he was on all four in the study – trying to refill his lungs as his vision was fading into darkness.

In came Nero, followed by Marbas, Duke of Hell who controlled thirty-six legions. While the youth was passed out in front of the house, Vergil approached the raging demon.

"You retched, Son of Sparda! You reek of betrayal and lies! How dare you mock me! How dare you provide safety for this insolent scum!" the Duke screamed at him, the earth shaking and rumbling as the sound pierced the flesh of the ground.

"I do not offer safety whatsoever. I seek retribution. Vengeance will be yours in the hand of your master if you relay a simple message from me to him," Vergil spoke eloquently, like a well-mannered diplomat trying to sooth the angered representative of a hot-headed country. "Tell him that it is time."

"Why should I believe you, you filthy _half_-devil?"

He didn't even pause to think of his response, it already was leaving his quick tongue, "Believe the binding on this house that prevents me from leaving. Believe the spell on this amulet that makes me a house pet to the Sparda family. My own family bound me...do you see me vouching for the humans?" Marbas stared at him for a good minute before snorting in satisfaction, saying nothing more as he made his way back in the direction of the Hell Gate.

So Vergil watched the child sleep, eyes staring curiously at the arm that gave a soft hum at his presence. He could feel Yamato cry out to him within the arm, but the necklace made sure he remained unresponsive to the blade. And when he felt the child's heartbeat become irregular as he entered REM sleep, he closed his own eyes to enter into a thirty-minute sleep.

The youth was pleasantly ignorant to the fact that he was Dante's twin, making it oh so easy to manipulate and breathe out his twisted lies. He was the antichrist reborn, making the masses march to his beat as he wore the mask of a 'friend', a 'guide' in this perilous journey. It was when he lead his victim to its death would he slide off his mask as Armageddon rang in its chaotic glory. So he would push buttons, see if he could place them in situations where Nero would have to turn to him as his last chance of survival.

Feeling the collar leave his neck made him giddy to the point where he nearly forgot the entire point of the journey. He wanted to tear the youth apart and take Yamato, and the arm, back. He wanted to see the world burn. He wanted to rush over to Dante and give his younger brother a taste of his own medicine: death. Vergil, Son of Sparda, carried a rather curious grudge like most of the demonic population. There was hatred toward Dante and before it was a mere batting of two rivals. But to know that his own flesh and blood killed him!? To be killed by someone younger than you is embarrassing. To be killed by your younger brother, who happened to be your twin, was just infuriating and degrading.

He was knocked down to the lowest of low pegs in life's statuses: deceased.

So he would deal with Dante the minute he had Yamato and the Devil Bringer in his grasp. He would end Dante and end his largest obstacle for good. Finally he would be able to traverse through life without that nagging thought that his other half was going to swing by any minute to disturb his movements.

When he reached a Hell Gate after the Devil Triggering outburst, he was by himself at the given moment. Nero was blissfully asleep and he was meeting up with the destroyer of kings: Beelzebub. He took the shape of a well-built male in his thirties, with dark stubble on a strong chin, chestnut locks that curled ever so slightly with skin of a pale hazelnut. Vergil smelled death on the body and he gave a guess that this was a corpse and the demon was using it. How uncouth.

"Ah, it does feel good to ally oneself with foreign tyrants – is it not, Vergil? Hell is quiet foreign to one born in human soil, am I correct?" the words came out quickly, hurried and not at all in a calm manner. Everything about the male was rushed, even the corpse he wore was not even properly placed on him, and it was not rare to see an eye socket dip downward to reveal burning flames underneath the flesh.

So he earned directions from the demon of diseases (and would later on receive further instructions at little fishing village that sought refuge on a rock from him) and a charming proposition, and in turn the idiot allowed a rather massive demon leave the Hell Gate. Who would have surmised that the ending scene would be Nero becoming poisoned?

This proposition that he made was one he was not at all pleased with. This was nothing but a side trip – a hassle. He rather move on forward with the original plan, but what was offered in the end was what he yearned for: the Devil Bringer. His job was to go over to the given out coordinates, find the encased angel, Michael, and kill him. The problem was that he could not kill Michael in front of Nero, which would ruin the entire ordeal. Nero would walk away and he would be left with all the chips leaving his hands. So he had to play the waiting game, and he thanked the gods for already the deep pool of patience he was gifted with.

So Michael became a past problem, labeled as deceased and he wondered idly if he was only shoving his soul deeper into Hell. He doubted he was going to be forgiven – if he 'ever found the light' (insert sarcasm) – and being forgiven wasn't exactly at the top of his list. Michael, from what he saw from the spell cast on the statue, was a personal joke of Lucifer's. Only by a demon's breath will the spell break, yet Lucifer was far cleverer than that to think his own games could keep Michael in prison. Vergil had a hunch that if Michael remained in place, and Lucifer was unleashed, the angel would find the power to break through his chains to stop his fallen brother. That was the gift of being related to your worst enemy: no matter what happened, you always come back in one form or another.

So with that blood on his hands, he gently led Nero deeper into his web of lies with the drive of a silent masochist who enjoyed drawing out events. Eyes of inconsistent silver and shades of dull blue would watch with arrogance and ease. The fly was only wrapping itself deeper into the web – rolling in the sticky material in bliss, reeking of stupidity to the point where pity was a necessity.

The demon – his demonic heritage – laughed and thrived off of this elaborate plan. It congratulated itself, giving a grin that would frighten sociopaths. Finally revenge would be his, the calling from his human side that demanded retribution. Its ego has been tampered with and it wanted to settle the score. Demons were hustlers but humans were fighters, and both sides twisted around each other like abusive lovers that relished the abuse. Thus, it beckoned for him to push forward with his goals and eliminate all obstacles.

Oh Dante.

Oh Dante must die.

"Now, now Vergil…didn't your mother ever tell you not to bully little children?" a voice purred out in lavishing luxury, a hand touching his shoulder that shook him out of his thoughts. Eyes turned to the right, spotting Lucifer who peered at Nero with contempt and then at him with a laughing grin of mockery. Hidden words being spoken through the grin as they stung an odd place in his being. "I have no time to stay and chat…I am afraid the Earth has been missing my loving touch. So if you may, a Father must go out and control his wayward children. They must be put in their place…" The words were so heavy in sarcasm and falsity that the entire scene might as well be fiction. Vergil cared not. The deal was done, the business transaction was completed and he had no more use for Lucifer.

So with a cordial and dramatic bow, the fallen angel disappeared in wisps of smoke before dispersing into the air.

Nero continued to squirm and panic in his grip, and he finally responded by releasing the boy. Watching him fall in the water, choking and coughing – body heaving for oxygen all at once, his eyes stared plainly at him. He could smell death on the child, he could feel it gnaw at his wounds and make the flesh rot. The child would not live…he would die as he wallowed in misery and self-loathing in this tomb of a reservoir. The water would devour his body as time passed by, and life would continue in his image. Nero would be just another passing problem, like Michael and all the others he has used for his own benefits.

In this world, you can only watch out for yourself.

"Vergil," Nero choked as he glared up at Vergil through soppy bangs, "I'll kill you. I swear to God – you won't get away with this."

Talking big, another idiotic trait Dante seemed to give to this child. Stupidity truly was contagious. What a pity…what a shame…

The arm hummed a soft tune into his mind, breathing out in its foreign language as it made his demonic energy peek in an intimate form of arousal. Like a lover, it cooed out to him and encouraged ambitious thoughts to blossom. What a beautiful treasure he now acquired and he was quite satisfied with it. Here was a magnificent left arm, seen as the marking of the antichrist if Michael was truly right. Here was an arm that laughed at Death and here this mere child swore to kill him…with his human hands. How quaint.

"Life is only a vision – a dream," Vergil informed, like a college professor would to a student in a lecture, "Nothing exists except empty space; and you…" Nero's eyes were thin slits and Vergil was donning on the look of an amused aristocrat lecturing an idiot that life was truly unfair for idiots, "And you are but a thought."

With those words spoken, driving a stake in the youth's heart, he left the area like a whisper… A whisper soon to become a rumor…and then cold reality.

* * *

She stretched her arms above her, back popping in relief before her body sank once more into the lush, golden armchair. Hidden designs were woven into the fabric, and one would have to stand a certain way to see the tendrils of golden vines and the hushing petals of an unknown flower. On her lap laid a book of demon lore, and her eyes eagerly soaked up the information like a sponge that was parched of water and finally given it. It was because of her brother once being the top dog in the Order of the Sword did she make herself acquainted of demon lore and spells. That did not mean she was not frightened of demons. On the contrary, the information she would take in only made her more afraid of what the world was filled of, but she persevered. Knowledge was power.

Kyrie ran a hand through her still damp locks that spoke of a recent shower, her hair emitting a shea butter and oatmeal scent. Just as she was going to turn the next page, currently looking more into Doppelgangers due to Nero's encounter with them, the sound of the phone ringing broke her from her studious thoughts. Carefully placing the book on the coffee table, she rose to her feet to reach the phone. It was probably another customer and once again she would have to tell them all that Nero was unavailable at the time.

Grabbing it on the third ring, she placed it against her hear, "Sorry, he's not here – "

"Kyrie! Listen to me –"

"Nero!" Kyrie breathed out in sweet relief, her body nearly slumping to the floor if it wasn't for the wall beside her. It felt so good to hear from him. It has been too long and she hasn't heard anything from him in over a couple of weeks. Her calls would never go through the phone and instead she would receive bizarre static before a computerized voice explained that the number was no longer in service. "It's so good to hear from you! Thank God! Are you okay?"

"K-Kyrie, god, it's good to hear from you too…" he breathed out quietly before snapping back into attention, "No, look…something happened – I screwed up. I need you to come and get me. I'm in Smyrna."

"Nero, that would take me days to get there if I hurried! There is no way a car can get me – "

"Get a plane, find a spell – get something. I need you to come now… God dammit, Kyrie…it's gone. The arm is gone," he explained at a now frantic pace and Kyrie felt her heart lurch in her chest. "It's fucking gone...damn bastard double-crossed me. You need to tell Dante now. Tell him that Vergil and Lucifer are out. I think they might go to him – Lucifer said something about putting someone in their place. I think it might be Dante or any other hunters out there. Tell him about this first," he finished in one hurried line, not even pausing to take a breath.

Kyrie gave a nod and cleared her throat, "O-Okay. I'll do it. I'll tell him and then go and get you. Stay near the phone, I'll call you back when I'm done with him."

Nero confirmed he would and she hung up the phone, blinking in a stupor as everything sank in. Lucifer? The fallen angel? He actually existed? How on earth was he released and how on earth did anyone even figure out where he fell at the beginning of time itself? Redialing the phone, she already was moving about collecting books and little knickknacks. First thing to do was to call Dante and warn him, the second thing to do was find someone who would be willing to fly a plane at eleven at night or a spell of some sort.

"Hello?"

"Dante - its Kyrie. We got a problem."

* * *

_Short, I know, but a little Vergil POV for the road. But bear with me, this is just the intro to the fireworks about to come!_

Love it? Hate it? Tell me in a review!


	11. the devil smiles on sundays

summary: _// _Post DMC 4 // _Nero liked the idea of playing hero and saving Dante's ass, but when did playing 'hero' suddenly mean asking help from a monstrous secret Dante has been hiding from Nero since day one? All things come with a price and Nero has a bad feeling that Vergil is going to request for more than just Yamato…_

_disclaimer: I do not own Devil May Cry, Nero, Dante, Vergil, etc. I wish..._

A/N: Sorry for the late update, again! Finals and all!

**feed me a box of words**  
**chapter eleven:** the devil smiles on sundays  
**written by**: of wolves and dogs

_"Go into the sand, and the dust, and the sky  
Go now, there's no better plan, than to do or to die  
Free me, pray to the faith in the face of the light  
Feed me, fill me with sin, and get ready to fight  
Hope dies, and you wander  
The otherworld, it makes you  
Dreams, they rip asunder  
The otherworld, it hates you."_

- Otherworld by Bill Mule

* * *

_Three days and he rose again…right? Isn't that how the story goes? Just different characters?_

He received the phone call three days ago and he watched in morbid disturbance at the chaos ensuing. Demons were appearing out of nowhere, Hell Gates were spurting from the earth and opening their jaws open in release. Instead of going out to the locations to deal with the problem, he remained put. There wasn't enough manpower to go out there and stop what was coming, especially if it was so scattered. Yet he noticed that something was closing in… The Hell Gates were appearing closer to the city. He could only assume that it was Lucifer, slowly making his way toward him.

There was a large disadvantage and a large advantage to this. For the sake of optimism, they were together – the hunters. Trish, Lady and himself were together and ready to take on what was going to come. The disadvantage? If this did turn out ugly, three hunters would be slaughtered (with the added bonus it was the Son of Sparda) and there are three less prominent hunters in the world.

Sitting at his desk, an opened can of beer untouched and now warm, he stared curiously at the front door. Trish was busy rummaging through old books she could scour as Lady was cleaning her weapons on the couch. The shrill song of a phone filled the air, causing all three to suddenly jump to alert, eyes turning violently to the right in the direction of the sound. Lady gave a look as she held her ringing cell phone up, like a peace offering to two disgruntled demi-gods. Flipping it open, she pressed the onyx phone against her ear. Without even moving her lips, she hung up and pocketed the phone as quickly as she took it out. "The kid is on his way," Lady informed him as she turned back to her arsenal of weapons, Dante giving a nod. This was going to be one hell of a fight and it would be good to have allies, and Nero was one hell of a kid with great potential. Although…Kyrie said something was wrong with him. With the arm…Vergil's work… Vergil just wouldn't give up and he wondered idly what on earth truly drove Vergil to do what he did. Twins yet complete opposites…and he couldn't help but feel responsible for this mess.

But if Hell was coming to them, then he was going to meet it with guns blazing.

_SLAM!_

The door burst open, causing all three to rise to their feet immediately. Already Ebony and Ivory were pinned on the figure at the door. "Woah, calm the hell down," a familiar voice exclaimed. There standing on his doorstep was Nero himself, hands up in surrender. Dante scoffed and stuck his two prized guns back in his holster, walking around the desk to meet up with Nero. "Long time no see, old man," Nero snorted as he made an exasperated gesture with his left hand, "Ditching me and leaving me with all this crap."

"Sorry I couldn't wipe your ass, kid. But duty calls…us grownups got big demons to fry," Dante shot back with matching jovial behavior. Something was bizarre with the way Nero smelled, and his demonic senses twitched as it tried to comprehend the scent. The moment he tried to explain the scent, something instantly slapped those invisible feelers aside, scolding him like a master would to a disobedient puppy. The mental experience was bizarre, leaving his senses reeling as he struggled to keep his cool. Lady and Trish only moved in closer to the two as Nero gave a wry smile at Dante. "I suppose you're here to help me put this big sucker down, eh?"

Nero chuckled and gave a shrug, "I wouldn't consider you 'big' whatsoever… A 'sucker'? I wouldn't be surprised."

The world sucked in her breath, and a cold shiver began to dance around Dante's ankles before snaking its way upward in a lazy spiral. Every hair began to stand on its end as it passed by, jaw tightening as his insides began to fall into his stomach - boiling. Dante's grin faltered as a frown took its place, his fingers already itching toward the Rebellion on his desk. His gaze flickered downward and he saw Nero's right arm…the Devil Bringer was present. Already the Devil Hunter put the two together, swinging Rebellion before him as his hands familiarly grasped the handle, the tip hovering before Nero's throat. "Those words hurt my feelings," Dante huffed as Nero laughed once more, "Why don't you show your true self, Lucifer? Or are you too hideous for my poor eyes?"

Nero quirked a brow before giving a soft 'hmph', the ground beginning to shake underneath them. The others didn't even have time to shield themselves as a powerful impact of energy exploded around them, as if someone dropped a bomb right between them all, sending them reeling backwards. The floorboards were kicked up, the stone walls crumbled as the front of the shop seemed to disintegrate into debris. White, colossal fire erupted from the earth as if they were standing on an active volcano that gushed flames out of this world. It seared through the earth, consuming what was around it like a starving man. Glass shattered as the sound of a piercing note blared loudly into their ears. Shattered glass shattered as the shattered pieces became as fine as sand. Dante shoved his fingers into his ears as he glanced upward from where he was sprawled, finding himself pinned underneath a beam. The sound continued to scream into the atmosphere, forcing him to wince and hiss, already feeling crimson liquid seep from his ears.

When the sound finally ceased, prying his fingers out of his bleeding ears, he found ground zero. Unknown flames licked the walls, growing, as the entire place looked as if it was in the middle of World War III. Shoving the wooden beam off of him, he slowly rose to his feet, coughing through the aftermath dust. "Lady…Trish, you girls okay?" He could barely hear his own voice over the ringing and throbbing of his ears.

They acknowledged him, slowly rising from the rubble as Dante stood partially poised and extremely sore. Trish was bleeding profusely from her shoulder, her right hand grasping the wound as she was covered head-to-toe with dust, glass and splinters of wood. Lady did not fare any better, the left side of her face covered in seeping blood from a cut somewhere on her forehead. Looking ghastly, she pried a shard of glass out of her right thigh, hissing throughout the act before angrily tossing it to the ground. Yet despite the graphic injuries that were obvious, they were fine.

The fog of dust flurried to the sides of the room, as if something fanned it aside. The sound of something unfurling hit his ringing ears and he blinked in silence at the sight before him. Bright, pure-snow white wings blinded him at first as they twitched in pleasant anticipation. A matching, blinding smile adorned the look as a perfected figure moved out of the rubble and outside. Graceful fingers beckoned to them – taunting and teasing.

_Showoff. _

"Fuck," Dante hissed as he stared at his opponent in all his glory. No, he was seriously in all his glory. It seemed Lucifer didn't really understand the concept of clothing. Standing six feet and three inches, with locks of incandescent gold with skin of breathless ivory was the infamous fallen angel. The only thing that revealed the fact something was wrong was the fallen being's eyes. His right eye was a gorgeous baby blue, the color swirling in lazy spirals as it would fade into a darker hue or lighten spontaneously. His left eye however was a vibrant gold, and resembled more or less the eye of a feline with its vertical slit of an iris, the white of his eye replaced by an heavy onyx. Dark lashes framed both eyes quite beautifully and Dante could not lie, the man was not a loathing sight. For a fallen angel that bears so many disgusting titles, his outward beauty played nothing up to the vile words spewed out in churches and street corners.

Reading Lucifer's posture, which was kind of a difficult feat since that required him to look down. _For the love of God – give me strength. _The devil gave a smirk and flicked his fingers in an opening gesture, body weight shifting to his right leg, "Impressed, Son of Sparda?" The devil inquired as his eight wings – four arranged on each side of the body – fluttered gently, stretching to full length in a form of showing off. Dante rolled his eyes and huffed, the damn fallen angel was as vain as his Sins, possibly even more.

"Nah, just wishing you knew the concept of 'clothes'," Dante replied back, without missing a beat, lightly running his tongue across the back of his teeth. He needed to think of a way how to handle this ass. He could guesstimate that Lucifer wasn't at his full potential – too many Hell Gates were still closed up. Regardless, he was fighting against someone he knew quite well could kill him by merely flicking him on the nose. So what to do?

"I lack shame. Shame is something you humans fell into. A habit that shall not be mine. Anyhow…why would I be ashamed of my image? No need to cover it behind cloth," the angel smiled, that warm and innocent smile fitting so perfectly on his face. Yet there was something about his voice that felt like hot chocolate being poured into his system, causing his entire body to cease in relaxation. That voice tickled his sweet spot and he could feel his entire body become slightly drowsy – heady, caught under a slothful spell.

"You are one egocentric, narcissistic bastard," Dante stated quite plainly, focusing on his own voice to break away this sensation of curling into a ball. In this sensation of sleeping…ignoring the situation at hand…to rest… It was as if someone injected his veins with a slothful behavior that was lulling him into relaxation.

"And you are a problem soon to be rid of," Lucifer laughed gently as he lightly flipped a stray golden curl away from his face. The minute the action was performed, Dante felt himself stumble back when he found Lucifer soon before him, bicolor eyes regarding him with pleasant mirth. Something sharp sliced through his chest, tossing him backward. Flying through the air, he landed roughly on his backside, hand touching his chest to find it wet. Hissing, he turned his eyes upward to find the man approaching with utter grace, bare feet barely touching the floor as a slender rapier was held in an un-calloused hand.

Snarling, Dante whipped out Ebony and Ivory to unload a clip into the smug bastard's face. With the roar of the guns in his ears, the wavelength and frequency of the roar reverberated in his chest, causing the wound to only widen in a yawning motion. Wincing, right eye barely opened as his left was slammed shut; when the clip was spent he opened his eyes fully to look at the scene of gore. Expecting to see ruined flesh, instead he found his bullets hovering in the air before the fallen angel. There Lucifer stood, smiling gently from afar as the bullets became lifeless and fell on the floor in a clatter. With a soft 'hmph' leaving the devil's lips, he advanced forward in a rising sprint, weapon held downward and nearly pinned to his side like a loyal hound. Dante snarled, hand reaching out to grab Rebellion only to feel his chest scream and ache at the motion. Eyes flickered up to see the Morning Star's sword coming down toward him, leaving wisps of golden flames in its wake as it cut through the atmosphere.

Placing his arm out in front of him out of instinct and defense, he felt cold air slap him roughly in the face. Eyes flashing open, he found the end of a snow-hued coat brushing against his cheek reassuringly as a body stood in front of him. Eyes flickered upward to see his sudden shield knock Lucifer back, causing the blonde devil to move back a good distance.

"Vergil!" Dante hissed out, getting to his feet slowly, left hand protectively pressing against his chest as he walked to the side of his older twin. Vergil cocked a graceful brow in question as eyes remained focused on Lucifer. "You fuckin' asshole," Dante snarled as he roughly shoved Vergil, causing the half-devil to instantly bare his teeth and match Dante's snarl. "Look at all the shit you caused – again! Fucking again!" the demon hunter barked out as Vergil faced his brother, the two ignoring Lucifer's presence for the time being. "Things are now screwed up!"

"I can assure you that nothing has gone astray, little brother," Vergil began clearly, "There is just a question of prey, I am afraid."

Dante opened his mouth to retaliate but remained quiet, lightly touching his left hand as if he could feel the scar on the palm of his hand. How many times has Vergil marked him on that hand with Yamato – the way a master would flick his disobedient pup on the nose when it has done wrong. And his right shoulder and left palm began to ache with hidden wounds that throbbed in silent whimpers. He understood it clearly now Vergil's intentions in this twisted scene. In this world, it only consisted of him and Vergil. Everything thing else was a distraction and as for him? He was Vergil's ultimate obstacle that would always be there whenever he pursued his grand schemes of grandeur. This was Vergil following up on his fated omen: 'he will be the one to end his brother and him alone, and vice versa'.*

"Fuck," Dante huffed in exasperation as he tore his gaze off of Vergil and toward the smirking Lucifer. That is when eyes noticed Vergil's new left arm and his insides did a sickening flop. _Nero. _Eyes of encrusted crystals of ice turned to Dante, freezing him place as an unspoken question of challenge floated in the air.

'_Do you dare challenge me in your sorry state? If so…feel free to try.'_

Brutal methods. Vergil consisted of brutal methods and cold rational. How on earth could they be twins?

Ignoring the sickening thought of how the arm was obtained and the entire process, he cleared his throat and made a motion toward Lucifer. "Think we can play nice for thirty seconds to kick this guy's ass?" Dante asked, watching as Vergil gave a noncommittal shrug as he gently raised Yamato, the blade singing softly in the air.

"I only promise you civility," were the last words Vergil mused out before the two were off.

Vergil was motherfucking fast, was the first thing Dante noticed the minute they set off. Before the younger twin could cross half the distance, Vergil was already there dealing a barrage of lethal blows. The younger twin kicked himself into gear, moving in when Lucifer swung back, blades catching each other in a cacophony of sparks and sounds. The fallen angel smirked as he gently took a few steps back, and before their eyes they found themselves at the mirror image of face they haven't seen since they were children.

"Dad?" Dante asked in bewildered question at the sight, knowing it to be false. But seeing the image of his father's face with that fatherly smile as he gave out a soft chuckle... God, even the voice was matching.

Vergil gave a huff in disgust and did not pause to stare at this transformation. He was quite aware of the tricks the fallen angel was capable of. What he was not expecting was to find that the Devil himself mimicked every movement and attack his father was capable of. The minute Vergil moved forward, was the minute he found his body suddenly staggering forward as something sucked his leg into the ground.

Hissing, jerking his head downward, he found the ground caved in as if the earth was crumbling. Now it was hardening around him, keeping his leg in tact as Lucifer lightly clucked his tongue. "Come, come Vergil…not so fast. You never raise a hand at your father," Lucifer scolded, Vergil's nostrils flaring instantly as he fought against his hold, feeling his body being dragged in further – as if he as in some bizarre sinkhole. Vergil nearly forgot that Lucifer's powers extended quite a good deal and ranged between abilities known and unknown. Manipulating the atmosphere and setting, bending the elements was no difficult task for the Devil. With a snarl, he struggled to pry himself from his earthy hold as it continued to drag him further. Before Lucifer could open his mouth further, the sound of gunshots filled the air, causing the fallen angel to calmly redirect his gaze to the younger twin. "That's not nice," he breathed out, as Dante gave a nonchalant shrug.

"I hate guys that just talk, talk, talk all day. Can't we just fast forward to the action part?" Dante grinned as he lightly wagged his finger at the devil. "Why don't you come closer? I think we need to hug, _pops_." Lucifer shook his head laughingly but moved forward, fingers twitching as a matching Rebellion formed in his open palm. Dante kept the grin in place, eyes focused as his own fingers lightly twitched – wanting to confirm Rebellion was still on his back. But he had to be patient…wait for the bastard to move a bit closer.

Ten feet…nine…eight…seven…

"Being cocky, Son of Sparda?" Lucifer cooed and Dante bit his tongue in annoyance. Did the guy have to dress up like his dad and sound like him!? Come on!

…six…five…four –

"NOW!" Dante barked out and Lucifer cocked a brow in question before being hit roughly by a blur of translucent sapphire energy. It smacked the fallen angel by surprise on his right side, sending him staggering back. Dante smirked as he felt Vergil beside him, cracking his neck as he gave a terse sigh. "Don't be cocky, you son of a bitch," Dante pronounced as he watched the figure from afar brush himself off.

Once again there was hardly a scratch on the fallen angel as he gave a matching smirk that Dante wore. Actually…everything about Lucifer currently looked like Dante.

"Well hello there, handsome," Dante drawled as the other gave an appreciative smile in return, lightly giving a mocking bow. Dante was already charging forward, Vergil close behind like a guard dog that was ready to follow through with every action displayed before him. Dante was disturbed that Lucifer read his movements with ease, his own attacks being matched with the mirror image of his defenses. The damn devil had his entire playbook memorized and that only made him internally groan in displeasure. Why? Because that meant Vergil was at much of a disadvantage as he was. Why? Well who has he been duking it out since they were young? He knew Vergil's tricks as much as Vergil knew his.

"Vergil, he knows our moves," Dante growled when the mimicking Lucifer moved out of Vergil's path. Vergil gave a nod that he should have guessed, the three soon entangled, Dante eagerly wishing he could gain some more space. Three people fighting all at once? Now that did not read "open spaced" or "comfy". Talk about misreading the term 'threesomes'. Actually it more or less read – "OW! WHAT THE FUCK!?"

The end of Vergil's elbow accurately hit him in the nose, sending him reeling back with his left hand cupping the broken nose. Vergil gave a nonchalant shrug, "Wrong target…my mistake." Dante snarled as his older twin continued on with Lucifer who was wearing a hyena's grin at the scene, finding this all too hilarious.

"I'm so glad everyone is fuckin' sane and wonderful here," Dante muttered, fixing his nose as his nerves screamed in his head. About to rejoin the fight, he found Lady rushing toward him with an out of breath girl with brown hair. Damn…she looked so familiar. "Kyrie?"

"Come on, Dante. Let your brother handle this right now – we got a solution," Lady exclaimed hurriedly as he tugged him farther away from the battlefield. Dante gave a nod and as he moved further away he found Trish and a familiar snot-nosed brat. There was Nero, standing tall and with determination as his right finger lightly traced a pattern on his left hand subconsciously. A hand that was truly human… Dante brushed his thoughts aside and gave a nod as Lady began to talk once more, "Kyrie found something that may help us seal Lucifer. It's called a Devil's Trap…and while it can trap demons, devils and spirits…we are going to need it on a larger scale. Stronger."

Kyrie showed him the book where the image of the seal was drawn on, "I believe this seal will either stop him for good or buy us enough time to do perform a proper ritual."

Dante scratched his head, lightly sheathing Rebellion, "I never heard of this before."

"Your father placed these seals on the Seven Deadly Sins when Temen-ni-gru was being sealed," Kyrie explained without missing a beat, Dante blinking in surprise at this determined and serious woman. Shy? Not at all. This girl meant business, and he couldn't help but shoot an impressed look at Nero who couldn't help but give a weak smile. It was Dante's face that faltered; he nearly forgot that he had to deal with this whole arm deal with Nero. It was Dante that would have to tell the kid that his Devil Bringer was pretty much gone for good. He didn't know jack diddley squat about how to perform demonic surgery or whatever it may be. Plus Vergil was a stubborn but meticulous bastard; the minute he has what he wants, he won't let you have it even if it costs him his life or the lives of others. Sometimes people just can't share.

" – we need to start creating the symbols, first off, on the ground surrounding the area. At the same time, we need to have avatars of the seal," she continued on, snapping Dante out of his thoughts.

"Avatars of the seal? Okay, you lost me, darling," Dante cut in.

"This is a Devil's Trap, but because we need it to be stronger than the ritual usually subscribes…we are going to need "avatars of the seal". Meaning…we need objects to be each point of the seal. But…"

"But you don't have the needed objects," Dante finished off, crossing his arms across his chest. Guess he would just have to finish off the bastard the old-fashioned way: hacking and slashing.

"Correct…but that doesn't mean it can't be done. We have ourselves," Kyrie finished gravely as she gently closed the book. Dante pursed his lips before turning his gaze back in the direction of where Vergil and Lucifer were. The area was covered with kicked up dust, making it nearly impossible to see them both, but he could hear the sound of blades clashing against each other. There was no way Vergil could keep this up…no one could single-handedly duke it out against the true Prince of Darkness and founder of Sins, themselves. "We don't have much time – "

"How many avatars do we need."

"Four…they need to stand on the North, South, West and East edge of the Devil's Trap," Kyrie responded, Trish giving a shake of the head that spoke of a hidden worry. Dante understood the gesture. She was aware that this act would haunt them in the future. If they were to be part of the seal, that meant that if someone happened to kill them or they die of old age…that part of the seal would be broken.

"Fine. Let's do this. Trish, Lady, Nero and I will be doing it. You better get this whole magic-voodoo shit done and ready," Dante spoke out plainly but with authority, causing all of them to nod in agreement. "Some people need to learn they overstayed their welcome," Dante murmured, gaze back on the sea of dust as the cacophony of blade hitting blade reassured him that his older twin was still alive and kicking… "Kyrie…you sure this will work?"

The young woman only stared quietly at the cover her book, holding the object masking her trembling hands. Intelligent, brown eyes focused on the devil hunter as she exhaled softly, "Hopefully…I pray that it'll work."

And that wasn't the response he was hoping to hear.

* * *

The young woman was crouched down in place, left hand splayed on the dusty ground beneath her as she hastily traced out the given image with a measly piece of chalk. The chalky substance ran a muddied white as it scaled across the destroyed concrete that once made up a sidewalk. But the area – no, the atmosphere looked as if a bomb was set off and this was the aftermath. She swore she could still hear the ringing in her ear from the fallen angel's change. Lips became a thin line as she thought of the stunning blonde angel that dripped of no good and torturous thoughts. Why must terrible things constantly happen? Wasn't it hard enough that civilians were constantly being fodder for the demons? Did we honestly need the ringleaderto emerge to stir even more chaos? Wasn't there enough already?

Shaking her head, dark and choppy locks lightly brushing against her forehead that was heavily coated with dried blood. Even though she highly disregarded magic and preferred the defiant and true roar of guns, this was necessary. Lady could only be relieved that Dante's older twin, Vergil, was keeping Lucifer occupied as they set up the arena. Strange how a former enemy could become a vital ally. The world must be going mad.

"Do you really believe that?" a voice asked gently, instantly causing Lady to snap her head up, fingers already grabbing the blade in her right boot. There stood a dashing demon hunter with locks of snow and a smirk of raging confidence. It was the eyes that told her that this was not Dante whatsoever, and she had a hunch that was exactly the plan. For there an amber eye gazed pleasantly at her from above. Lady twitched in disbelief, eyes straying behind the figure to see Vergil and Lucifer still at each other's throats like raging dogs. But… "I am everywhere, Lady. I am omnipotent," the angel drawled, the huntress despising the fact he was reading her thoughts like an open book.

"Fuck off," Lady snarled, causing Lucifer to give a mock expression of hurt as he placed a hand on his chest where his heart would reside.

"Your father is burning nicely in the Eighth Circle of Hell. Oh corruption has burned his eyes different shades of colors, and oh how they are reflected in yours," the fallen angel began gently, like a father trying to sooth a rather rowdy child. "Blood has corrupted you, Mary. It has desensitized you…twisted you, and you know it."

"Go freeze in hell – "

"Do you want to see them?" Lucifer cut in calmly, Lady blinking before narrowing her eyes in defense. "Want to see your dear father…and your mother?" he finished, causing her heart to thump rather painfully in her throat. Standing at full height, feeling disgust burn through her veins at this cruel taunting, she snarled in disbelief. About to give out another insult, fingers curled tightly around the blade in her hand as her free hand slowly touched her gun at her belt, something bizarre occurred. Muscles and limbs told her to whip out her weapons and finish the bastard here and now, yet her body was rooted firmly in place as if someone was holding her back.

That left eye of his stared straight through her like a harpoon being thrown skillfully and hitting its mark with utter perfection. His right eye, baby blue and reeking of coy sensuality, was merely an accessory and easy to pass off…but that left eye… It burned her, it was inhuman the way it bore into her skull – the eye nothing but a lens on a camera: focusing, refining, perfecting. Blinking, shuddering at the sensation this creature gave to her as if she just stepped into thick sewage and could not get out, she closed her eyes to gain composure. She needed to focus and concentrate at the task at hand.

Taking a deep breath, she opened her eyes that were determined to finish the impossible: seal the Devil.

She opened her eyes to stare at the world burning.

Like a child being firstly entered into the world, she blinked as if coming from a wild daze. Confusion encircled her and she glanced almost nervously at her surroundings. This was not Dante's office or anywhere near it. No…she was rather in what looked like a rather large tunnel carved through rock that was as black as night. There it was licked by flames, fading and growing at will as the source seemed to be deeper through the cave. But it did not matter that the flames were an awful color of pure white to the point it burned her retinas, or that her lungs were being filled and refilled with an awful smoke that circulated through the air like an airborne virus, or the fact that there was a terrible sound coming from ahead of her. What did matter was the fact that she was no longer anywhere familiar…hell, she didn't even think she was on –

Hell…

Lady choked at this realization as Lucifer's words replayed through her head. The Eighth Circle, he said. Turning to glance behind her, she only found a sea of darkness and she did not trust her skills to bravely walk in the darkness. Gnawing on her lower lip until it was tender; she forced herself to move forward. Slowly of course…her usual liquid courage that came from being drunk on anger and revenge did not feed her this time. Her hand on her gun she struggled to find reassurance in her weapon, but doubt and fear continued to weed itself through. What on earth could a gun do against all the demons in one circle of Hell?

She rather not answer the question.

Feeling the intensity of the heat increase, her body sweating profusely, she found herself staring at boiling pools of fire. It growled and purred, stretching and churning like the surface of the Sun…if you called chaotic flames of destruction pleasant. It wasn't the pools of fire that bothered her, it was the sea of people being burned alive. She now realized what she was hearing from the beginning – that terrible sound. They were screaming. All of them were screaming, shrieking, crying out for this cacophony of heated torture to end and just finish them off. But it never seemed to kill them…just burn them alive and nothing more.

She rather deal with Lucifer giving her a monologue on how pathetic and disgusting of a human she is than watch this. But she did not have the pleasure of company, despite how revolting that company may be. All she had was her eyes feasting on flesh being slowly burned from flesh, exposing red and pink insides. Healthy. Oozing. Pussing. Veins bursting liked popped balloons. Muscles being cooked. Fat sizzling. Eyes drying out, irises cracking as moisture was sucked dry.

"Mary?"

Lady jerked her head to the right, ears tuned into that single sound as she found her legs dragging her toward the sound. She couldn't understand why she had to go to the voice, she rather find a way out and nothing more. Maneuvering through the pools was a death wish, and she could feel the flames lick her skin when she leaned a bit too close to one of the pools. God, what on earth was she trying to accomplish here?

"Mary?"

Making a sharp turn, she found the source of the sound. There clinging to the edge of a pool were frail hands digging violently into the dirt as large brown eyes stared warmly at her. Cautiously making her way toward the figure, Lady felt her insides instantly tighten as her eyes began to water not from the insufferable heat but from something much more. For there staring up at her was a woman with burnt, ebony hair and a broken smile that spoke of much hardship.

"Mom…"

"Oh Mary…what a fine – "

"LADY!" Nero called out in worry as he stared from his spot, cerulean eyes nervously staring at the once proud demon hunter that suddenly collapsed on the spot. There she lied on the ground, face in the dirt as the chaos ensured between them. What the fuck was going on around here!? Snarling in distress, running a hand through his messy locks, he was about to leave his finished mark to check up on her when a cold shiver ran down his back.

"I wouldn't worry about her…" a voice asked laughingly, causing Nero to whip around to stare at Lucifer's charming and handsome face. Perfect teeth shinned brightly at him as a gentle smile adorned the Prince of Darkness. "Shouldn't you be worrying about your…girlfriend?" he asked with a casual sort of grace not seen often in others.

"What the fuck are you talking about, you son of a bitch?" Nero bit back without any hesitation and the Devil did what he did best…

He smiled.

* * *

_Love it? Hate it? Tell me in a review._


	12. swear to god

**summary:** _// _Post DMC 4 // _Nero liked the idea of playing hero and saving Dante's ass, but when did playing 'hero' suddenly mean asking help from a monstrous secret Dante has been hiding from Nero since day one? All things come with a price and Nero has a bad feeling that Vergil is going to request for more than just Yamato…_

_**disclaimer:** I do not own Devil May Cry, Nero, Dante, Vergil, etc. I wish..._

**A/N:** Sorry for the boo-boos in the last chapter. It's 'right' arm not 'left'. Forgive me for the mistake. Here is finally part two of the fight between the devils! Enjoy! Yes this is the last chapter. Thank you all for reading this and leaving reviews! Makes me happy! So happy holidays to everyone! Drink tons of hot chocolate and relax! Once again, thank you very much! Until next time!

**feed me a box of words**  
**chapter twelve:** swear to god  
**written by:** of wolves and dogs

"_The evidence before the court is incontrovertible.__  
__There's no need for the jury to retire.__  
__In all my years of judging I have never heard before,__  
__Of someone more deserving of the full penalty of the law.__  
__The way you made them suffer,__  
__Your exquisite wife and mother,__  
__Fills me with the urge to defecate!"_

_- The Trial by Pink Floyd

* * *

_

Eyes of watered down blue stared calmly ahead, taking in the scene displayed before them. The air smelled heavily of dust and the trash the city constantly tossed out on the streets. There the dust curled up in columns, dispersing whenever brushed against and sending the particles across the canvas of a scene like a fog. From afar stood bodies that only looked like shadows cut into existence, and he watched as these shadows were doubled… Something else accompanied them and seeing the falter of the originals worried him greatly. He knew that a certain antagonist was visiting each upholder of the future seal and crushing them. What was occurring? He couldn't tell. There was no scream, no blood being spilt…only them faltering. What on earth was Lucifer doing to them?

Swallowing a lump in his throat, he focused at the task at hand, finishing the last of the instructions given to him. All that was needed was Kyrie to begin the process and finish this bastard for good.

There in the middle of this spell-made trap was his brother fighting against the devil himself, and he ached to join the fight and give aid. But right now, he needed to make sure this seal was intact and strong. "Just hang on," he murmured, wondering how ironic and bizarre his life was continuing to be.

"Tender words to a rival? How sweet," a voice purred out with utmost civility and grace, as if he was a nobleman addressing a guest. It rather sounded as if he should be commenting on the weather or complain of the dust in the air. Dante felt himself frown before the action occurred, eyes flicking to his left to find the devil. No longer did he wear the face of his father or his own face – or at least, not the usual attire with the face. Instead was the image of his brother who gave a smile that caressed his porcelain features, eyes staring coolly at Dante. The devil expected a rebuttal, but Dante would not give it. If it was truly his brother, he would have not hesitated to shoot out a rather poorly-made rejoinder… But this was not his brother, this was an imposter. So Lucifer gave a quiet 'hmm' in response, that sole golden eye pulsing in silent mirth – as if there was a heart behind the iris.

"Dante," he finally cooed out, arms outstretched in welcome, the motions friends would make in the comings of a warm embrace, "Dante, Dante, Dante. Come now, let's not be terse with one another – or rather, you not be. I should be the one who is terse…" Still no response and Lucifer gave a 'what am I to do with you' look that did not sit well on such a cold façade Vergil was well-known for giving. "My what a ruckus you have caused… You are truly an annoying gnat in my life – " he began with much eloquence, one an actor would give when reciting lines from a play "– a gnat only _I_ would personally go up to handle." A hand rested gently on the bare skin on the top of an unblemished collarbone, "Consider it a compliment." Then the devil gave a slight gesture with the hand on the collarbone, like a master would give to his servant in a sign they were permitted to speak.

Dante only shook his head in disbelief. This guy was ridiculous. "Why thank you, Lucifer. I love it when people give me pretty words." Sarcasm dribbled out so heavily from his lips that it made even Lucifer give a wry grin.

"No doubt."

"So how's my brother? Keeping you occupied?" Dante bit back. Maybe he could buy some time for Vergil; keep the devil occupied over here so he was distracted over there.

"No…not really," Lucifer drawled, adjusting one of the loose sleeves of the coat he adorned. To Dante's ears it sounded as if he was answering the comments in his head, causing a seed of doubt to weed itself into his heart. "I'm toying with him and he knows it…and it is driving him insane," he chuckled gently, eyes closed in quiet bliss at this joke this all was, "Heh…especially since he has seen us right now." Dante blinked, the calm façade falling as he showed mild confusion. So Vergil was distracted by them and he felt his gut twist into an odd knot. Something was wrong…he could feel a coming punch line… God, he could _hear_ the cogs work in the devil's brain as something wicked sure did come his way. _The bastard is going to pull something…but what!?_ "What a possessive twin you have, my annoying gnat. So possessive to the point he will fight the devil himself on who has the right to kill you. You two should get a room..."

"If your beef is with me than take it up with me, not with everyone else." His words came out strong, but he couldn't shake off the nagging feeling that things were going to get worse. Much worse.

"Yes well…you know how I function. The whole entire 'hurt the heart first' charade. But do know I do it for you… You are just like your father: a thorn in my side. Your brother, not so much… He has his own agendas in that crafty skull of his but at least he doesn't side with these sheep called humans. I understand his need to kill you… While you find pleasure in women, Dante, he finds pleasure in ripping you into shreds. So I'm going to do him favor…" Oh did the snake have a quick mouth on him and he could feel him tie him up in growing fear – in suspense.

"Oh you sweet soul. Why don't you do me a favor and give me a back massage?"

Then it came. Words spoken like a true dictator who knew he could make the sun fall to the earth at the mere snap of his fingers. One who knew his power was stronger than all who dare managed to stand on this face called Earth. "You spurn your demonic heritage instead of fully embracing it," Lucifer began, gently strolling around Dante, "You abuse your rights by using it to help the fodder. So…I'm going to take it away – I'm going to give you the immune system of a human." Pausing behind Dante, golden eye blazing as if about to burst into flames, a soft hum escaped him as he gave the final punch line. The final death sentence. "Than…I'm going to give back each and every scrape and wound you have received since you were ten."

"WHAT!?" Dante shouted out, turning to face Lucifer, hands already on Ebony and Ivory. Pulling them out, he didn't hesitate to waste a clip on the devil who stood there rather looking bored. Now Dante understood what was going on from a far… Lucifer was placing everyone in their own personal hell and this one was going to cause him his life.

"That way I'm not really killing you…everyone else and even Vergil's past marks on you will do so. My sweet favor. Don't worry…I'll give you six minutes to feel each and every one…_than_ you may die," Lucifer assured him gently, watching as Dante sagged to his knees as he touched his chest. It felt as if someone was cutting straight through his chest with a knife as one would to a painting, the inside revealed to show nothing but the back of the canvas. But he was no canvas…and he watched in numb-filled horror his insides threaten to slop out. Hands blindly pressing against his body, not aware he was screaming his throat hoarse. The sound never reached his ears…eyes turning upward to find eyes of piercing blue capture his.

**"LUCIFER!"**

Nero's eyes averted from Lucifer and turned toward the middle of the area, confused by the scene before him. Vergil left his qualm with Lucifer to run off elsewhere, but the furious cry for the fallen angel made him shudder. Something was happening but he couldn't see past the sea of dust that swirled angrily now. "I'm sick of these tricks…of these lies," Nero spoke out firmly, eyes focusing on the devil who was giving an 'Oh really? Do you wish to put Kyrie's life on the line for that statement?' expression. "Ever since this journey began…I've been force-fed a box of words – of meaningless words. I'm sick of it. So hear me, you son of a bitch, and hear me well. I am human. I fucking know it. Yeah, the Devil Arm was nice…but it didn't make me different. I'm still human and we humans may be weak and stupid…but we got something you can never understand."

Lucifer gave a quiet yawn.

"We have heart…and let me tell you something. If our hearts tell us to fuck you up, we'll go to the end of the earth to do it – in a heartbeat."

Lucifer chuckled, truly un-amused as he lightly brushed a stray lock out of his face, "Oh really? Do tell, child, like what for example?"

"Like him."

Lucifer cocked an eyebrow, but to find Yamato plunging out of his chest, burrowing even further as a demonic arm crushed his jugular from behind. Golden wisps of air became of this copy of Lucifer, and standing in his place was a towering demon of deep navy and sapphire tones. Yamato in left and Devil Bringer in right, Vergil's dark tongue ran against savage incisors as if he rather preferred to tear Lucifer's throat with his teeth. Sickly, robin blue eyes stared at him as vertical pupils of pitch-black seemed to suck him in like a black hole. Despite the fact this side of Vergil frightened him to no end, there was something off this time. Maybe it was his eyes…but there was more demon than human coursing through Vergil's skull it seemed. Movements did not reflect the intelligent mind that resided inside and Nero felt something sink in his stomach. Something happened, because Vergil was not darting off toward Lucifer to finish the deed. Instead his eyes were on this new prey before him and he could feel the heavy energy radiating off of Vergil roll in thick waves. He approached him, Devil Bringer lunging out as his neck and hoisting him up in the air. Up there eyes gazed at him, head tilted to the right as jaws parted and snapped.

As much as he wanted to scream at the demon. To bury him alive and curse his name until it was the last word he ever uttered on this planet… As much as he wanted revenge, something deep down inside of him shoved aside the selfish voice. Now was not the time for these thoughts…

"Vergil…" Nero began, the demon giving out a guttural growl in response, "Don't forget that you're human too."

Nero struggled against the grip, feeling the growl vibrate throughout Vergil's body and send tremors throughout his system. He could feel the air leave his lungs, causing his movements to become more frantic. Then the growl ceased into nonexistence as it turned into an exhale of oxygen, fingers releasing him. It felt as if realization was sinking in and Nero wasn't sure what to make heads or tails out of Vergil's body language or expression. The Devil Triggered form of Vergil revealed nothing to give his inner workings away and so he stood fearfully in front of a monstrous-sized demon that exhaled energy like iron-beast of a machine. With a shake of its horned head, two fingers moved up and touched his jugular, causing Nero to flinch, before vanishing into nothing. Returning to the fight.

He could feel his knees threaten to give out as he realized what on earth he just did. Telling off the devil!? What if Vergil did not swoop by again to save him!? Which was odd itself…why did Vergil even care what happened to him? Of course he did just try to strangle him… Shaking his head to dismiss the thought, he turned his head to the left to see Kyrie sprinting toward him. She looked untouched and well, crushing him in a hug as her book jabbed him in the side painfully. "Kyrie! We need to do this now! I'm not sure how long Vergil can keep him in the circle," Nero began, Kyrie giving a nod.

"I know. Trish should be back to her spot. She ran into Lucifer but he suddenly vanished for some odd reason," Kyrie began, Nero wondering if it was Vergil's doing too, "She helped finish Lady's. Something happened – we need to hurry. Dante's hurt and bleeding. If we stop it now things might be reversed back. As long as they are in their spots, we are good to go!"

Motioning for her to start, she gave a nod and began to read from the text the words to seal and bind. They left her mouth like burning stars falling from the heavens as they were given with crisp deliverance. One by one each cardinal sign began to glow and he prayed that Dante was alright. What on earth did that fucking Lucifer do to him!? Ignoring the site of a torn-up Dante, he waited for Lucifer to suddenly be sucked into the ground or for some weird holy shit that usually happens during events like these. Yet as the markings glowed defiantly before them, nothing occurred. The two continued to fight and it was obvious that it was getting ugly. Yamato was gone it seemed, probably once more absorbed into the Devil Bringer, and the two were clashed into a wild wrestle. From what Nero could tell, it honestly looked as if Vergil was trying to get his jaws onto the fallen angel's neck.

What drove Vergil to act in such an animalistic method to abandon the Yamato for his own teeth and claws?

Strangely enough Dante flashed into his head –

"Nero! It's not working! It must not be strong enough!" Kyrie shouted out to him, rummaging through the pages for something else to help her. Nero cursed at whatever higher beings were ignoring them at the moment, a dirty hand running through his hair. Fuck! What the fuck were they supposed to do then!? Why wasn't it strong enough to bring Lucifer down like a sick dog -

"That's it!" Nero exclaimed, rummaging through his pockets for what he hoped was still present. Out came the amulet passed down from Sparda himself, as it glowed a blood-red. "Kyrie! I'm going in! Get ready!" Nero shouted out as he left his glowing post to sprint toward the fighting duo. He could feel the necklace became loose in his hand, as if the amulet was going to drag onto the floor. Glancing down at it, he found the material loosening and readying itself for him, sensing that it was needed once more.

As the fighting duo drew closer, he found the two refused to give each other room. They refused to give the other the advantage of breathing space, making it difficult for Nero to single out just Lucifer. Robin-blue eyes found him and Nero averted his eyes hastily as he tossed the amulet over them in a bizarre lasso gesture. It found its mark, loosely settling on them both as their fighting came to a pause. Lucifer casted his eyes upward to stare in interest at whatever was on him before the material instantly twanged to attention, tightening around the two until their heads smacked into one another. Seeing what was occurring, Lucifer did not hesitate to fight back, pushing against Vergil as his body struggled to transform into whatever may let him free. But no matter how small the being he changed into to or how large, the necklace remained firm and unrelenting.

Nero darted back to his place, eyes of sickly pale robin continuing to follow him. Vergil did not bother to resist, on the contrary he changed back from his Devil Triggered form, watching in silent amusement at the struggling devil. "It is ironic, is it not? You are now bound by my father's work…a man who fell in love with a human," Vergil mused out, causing Lucifer to gnash his teeth in frustration as he could feel the material become cold and hard. It was when Nero reached his previous position did the seal finally go through.

There was no flashy bang. No earth-shattering rumbles. Nothing extraordinary save for the swirling of the dust that seemed to devour the two, glowing a quiet golden as the amulet continued its work. It was when the dust dispersed did the scenery truly change. There stood Vergil with a familiar collar on his throat as he staggered a step forward, eyes still forever focused on Nero. His right arm gently was lifted, the Devil Bringer pulsing with its own light, and Nero got the impression as if this was Vergil taunting him. Telling him that even though he was caged once more, the Devil Bringer remained with him. Tempted to snarl and tear his hair out at the gesture, the half-demon fell backward as if invisible forces were shoving him back. Taking this as if the coast was clear, Kyrie and Nero darted toward the middle of the seal.

There laid Vergil in what seemed to be in slumber and next to him coiled an anaconda the color of sunshine in the afternoon with crimson markings across its skin in the shape of the amulet. It curled lazily about, twisting into itself before becoming motionless.

"They sleep…in a forever slumber," a familiar voice mused, Nero jerking his head to see Lady and Trish holding up Dante. His arms rested on the back of their shoulders as he gave a wince whenever he shifted his body's weight to another side. "I know what to do with Vergil…got a nice doggy kennel for him," Dante mused, trying to make light of the situation that seemed so grim. Nero only stared quietly at Dante before turning to his Devil Bringer. It didn't come back to him, it remained on Vergil's body and he ached for his arm back. God, he wanted it back…

"What of Lucifer?"

"We could donate him to a zoo?" Dante chuckled, wincing at the movement and silencing himself up. "Hmm…we need to first figure out how to banish him back to the Underworld once more. There has to be something or someone who knows how to do this," he finished, eyes turning expectantly on Kyrie who gave a firm nod in return.

"We have a lot of work to do here…" Trish mused as she glanced over the area, completely decimated by the events that took place.

"Then we do something about it," Dante replied back loudly, slipping out of the girls' hold to move over to his brother, crouching down to touch his brother's neck. Checking his pulse, he found the beat to be true and sedated. Words could not describe the immense relief. While there was certainly no love lost between the two, they were still brothers. As much as they fought against each other relentlessly as if it was a mere sport, they never gave the finishing blow. Close, of course, but never finally dishing the death blow. Maybe…there was hope? Dante highly doubted it. Old habits die hard and this was a testament of it.

"Where are you going to take him?" Nero asked quietly, Dante finding him crouched before him. The older hunter casted a curious gaze upon him, seeing that through the grime on his face there were eyes glistening with something pure and raw. "Dante…please," he insisted, causing the demon hunter to exhale heavily through his nose. He was not in the mood to deal with this, not after experiencing a good near five minutes of unadulterated torture. If Vergil didn't step it up… Just thinking about it all made his head throb with an emotion he couldn't quite put his finger on.

"Dante – "

"Look, kid, I'm taking him to my father's house. Both of them for now. Vergil will be having a sleepover in the deepest cellar and staying there: locked, sealed, whatever. Don't worry…he won't be able to leave this time," Dante reassured, tone crisp and signaling to Nero to cease his tongue and stop talking. "Now pick up Lucifer…I got this troublemaker," Dante groaned, feeling scars stretch and his previously-battered body hiss as he scooped his brother up.

Nero did as he was told, the serpent twisting around his torso and his right arm in its sleep. He walked steadily behind Dante, eyes firm and narrowed at Vergil's right arm that dangled freely. That arm was a part of him – his identity. Without it he felt completely lost and hopeless…and now with Vergil out of commission… There was no reason why he shouldn't pursue his right arm.

He was going to get his arm back. He was going to get it if it was last thing he did on this godforsaken planet.

"I swear to God."

**FIN**


End file.
